EXERCISE Theme Song #15

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by Celestialis, Jun 7, 2012.

  1. [video=youtube;4QHYuNC7tI0]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QHYuNC7tI0[/video]

    Music touches people in different ways. Many people enjoy listening to music for inspiration, and others simply listen to it to relax. Some songs tell stories while others allow you to make your own story.

    Your challenge:

    Listen to the song above then take a minute or two to think about it.

    Write out a scene to this song; make this song your scenes theme song.

    Let me know what you see when you listen to this music.

    This is the fantasy edition... I hope the music comes across that way... MAYBE.. you guys will get a treat and see what I picture when listening to this song. What do you think? ^.^
  2. "Come quickly! Don't fall behind!" giggled the small fairy as she quickly flew around through the trees of the forest.

    "Hey! Wait up! Where are you leading me, Lyxie?" The man behind her, panting heavily as he tried to keep up with her..Curse him for not having wings.

    Lyxie stopped for a moment, only to U-Turn back to the man, hovering in front of face.
    "Oh Daradel! Don't spoil the surprise! Just hurry!" Leading the way once more.

    Daradel sighed, sprinting to catch back up with Lyxie who stopped at a rather unusual looking clearing in the depths of the forest. It didn't have any trees in the way like the rest of the forest. No..It was just a large clearing with a large rock and some colorful mushrooms, all surrounded by taller trees than the two had been traveling through. Daradel was rather puzzled...Why did Lyxie stop suddenly? For hours he kept asking where they were going and how close they were. Lyxie kept telling Daradel they were close to the location..And now she stopped.
    "Lyxie, what's wrong? Why did we stop?"

    Lyxie smirked and landed one of the mushrooms looking at Daradel with the most innocent face.
    "We're here!"

    Daradel just stared at Lyxie.

    "We're at my home town."
    Lyxie smiles and lets out a strange noise that rings harmoniously through the wind. Thousands of tiny giggles were heard in all directions, leaving Daradel clueless in which way to face and not feel completely surrounded. Suddenly fairies were flocking in every direction towards Lyxie and the mushrooms. It was an incredible sight and surely no human had ever laid eyes on such a spectacle. A smile grew on Daradel's face as some of the fairies landed on his shoulder giggling and greeting him warmly. Lyxie ascended up to his face and smiled.
    "See? Was it not worth the trip and time?"

    Daradel nodded.
    "At first I was baffled as to why you were leading me so into the depths of the forest, and if we were ever going to reach it...All I can say now is that I am indeed, grateful you brought me to your friends here. So worth the trip."

    All the fairies cheered, as well as Lyxie as she took his hand and led him towards the colorful mushrooms.
    "Come! We'll show you our true home! One that's not so cleverly hidden!"

    Daradel followed Lyxie and the other fairies towards the colorful mushrooms which began to emit a strange glow, growing brighter and brighter as they approached. The fairies all chanted a spell that teleported them out of sight, restoring the clearing to look like the rest of the forest with its sea of trees.
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  3. The leaves always seemed so lush and green in this part of the forest, brighter and more vibrant. Everything seemed more alive and inviting that the other areas of the forest. Where shadows were ominous, and winds caused leaves to scrape against each other in harshness, here the shadows were just as alive as the trees. They moved in patterns of dark and sunlight as the leaves danced, their silent voices echoing with the wind. That was just one of the reasons he enjoyed this spot. The biggest would have to be that it was always quiet. Other people didn't come this deep into the woods. Superstitious folk, they believed that the woods hid creatures, both mischievous and malicious, that would trick you into following them to their home, and you would never return. He had always laughed at those stories. He'd been coming to this exact spot for years, and had not once seen anything unusual or out of the ordinary. Well, there was the odd bird with strange colours on their wings, but they hardly drew him into becoming lost.

    The young man sat himself down on his favourite stump, bringing his sketch book to lay in his lap, a piece of black charcoal clutched in tanned brown fingers. Eyes of soft moss gazed in an unending stare at the serene beauty that encompassed him, before the charcoal flew across blank canvas, creating smooth, dark lines. Trying to capture a single glimpse of the forest in a sketch. A smile spread across his lips, small and sweet, private. Safe from anyone in the solitude of his art. Or, at least he thought he was alone, but there was... something nagging, almost begging him to turn to his left. So he did, and his eyes met milk white skin flashed with red. In his glimpse, he thought it might be blood, until he turned fully to see that he was mistaken. It was a boy, with the palest of skin, with hair as red as the inside of the bray berries. He couldn't see his face, as red hair blocked it from view, but he knew where the eyes were looking.

    In a quick movement, he had flipped his sketch book over, and moved away, off of his stump. His art was private, meant just for him. There was an uneasy silence and stillness between the two young men, before the fair one turned to face him, a bright smile splayed wide on his face.
    "That was pretty impressive." He spoke, and it sounded strange. There was an underlaying accent to his words that he just couldn't place. He blinked, and the strange man was back within his space, almost nose to nose with him. He took a step back, coming into contact with a tree. The other took the step forward. He seemed to enjoy being invasive, his gaze kept fixed with the other. The artist found himself staring into eyes of effervescent blue, and strangely, didn't wish to look away. An apologetic pout touched at the edges at the fair male's lips. "I'm sorry, I only wanted to see what you were drawing." He hadn't even noticed that there were thin fingers flipping through his sketchbook, until they were near the last pages.

    "Like I said, these are really impressive." He mumbled. The artist thought it was strange, how he was looking through his artwork, yet he was still reeling from the blue eyes that seemed to still be staring into him. And then they were, the red head being back in his space. It was happening too fast to be real. He must have been dreaming. But some part in his mind knew he was wide awake. "But they're all of this same spot. Listen, I know a place.. Where the sun hits the stream and shadows play with the leaves." And just like that, they were walking. They must have been walking for some time, because he couldn't see the stump. But it had only been a few moments, hadn't it? His head was spinning. "The fruit trees are all in bloom, their petals dancing in the wind, their perfume in the air." There was a shower of white, as if it were snowing. But they were soft and warm. Flower petals.

    They stood in a clearing, flower petals dancing around them as the wind circled. The clearing was cut in half by a little stream, that seemed to pool at the ends, as if it had no beginning. No end.
    "Are you ready?" The tanned boy turned to face his fair companion, finding his gaze locked back with those of bright blue, the different shades seeming to shift within their depths. "Ready for what?" His own voice seemed echoey, as if it didn't really exist. He could tell that a large smile pulled at the red head's lips. It crinkled around his eyes, seeming to give it a not altogether human twist. "To go to the other side." It wasn't one voice. There were many. Some loud, bright, and excited, and others whispery, old, wise. And all were inviting. His hand was in the fair boys, and slowly, as if moving through water, crossed the stream.

    They went looking for him, in the days that followed, and they tried to find him. Oh how they tried. But they never found that tanned man. Only his sketchbook, laid open and unattended on the stump. Open to a page of a young man, staring intently at the looker, a small smile pulling at thin lips.
  4. Her heart was beating fast from the excitement as she stood by the side of the stage, ready to make her first appearence. She practiced so much for today, so much that her arms and legs hurt from all the practice, but she did not mind. She had to make her first performance flawless, nothing short of perfect, or she would not forgive herself for disappointing her teacher. He spent so many hours on passing his art down to her, and has praised her so much that she would die of shame if she were to mess this up.

    "Calm down," she told herself, not noticing that she was speaking out loud. "You are too nervous," said the young girl, looking at her hands that were shaking like the leaves on a tree during a thunderstorm. She took a few shallow breaths to calm herself down, but they just increased her nervousness, so when she heard her name from the stage, her heart almost exploded. With trembling limbs, she went up the stage, and stood in the centre, closing her eyes so she could not see the audience. As soon as she arrived at her destination, the harp player on the right hand of the stage tried the strings of his instruments a few times, and then started playing.

    Her mind froze when the first note hit her ears, but her body moved to the familiar tune of the music, urging her to start dancing. She felt her arms automatically raise above her head, and her legs putting themselves into position, which gave her a push of confidence. Now sure that she would not fail miserably on her very first performance, she started moving with the music, even improvising at the parts the harp player accidentally missed a note, just as her teacher taught her. Depsite her doubts, her movements were fluid, consistent and impossibly graceful, never missing a beat as the tone of the music changed.

    The long minutes of the performance flew by as she immersed herself in the dance, her eyes still closed as she listened to every note, her body not even brushing the fancy dress she was wearing for her first performance. When she finished, she put her legs beside each other, lowered her arms to her side, and used the momentum of her last move to transition into a deep, respectful bow to thank the audience for their attention. As she straightened herself, there was a moment of stunned silence, but when she opened her eyes a wave of applause hit her, almost shattering her eardrums.

    "Papa... I did it," said the young girl, smiling. "I became a dancer," she said, her smile growing brighter as she bowed once again, and left the stage with certain steps, proud of herself.
  5. Bunnies and butterflies swarmed around a sleeping figure. Her hair was golden and curly, angelic face and pure violet eyes. Her hands were delicate and the clothing draped over her body was loose but elegant. The sleeves were long and dropped down to her feet when she stood. A wide leather light brown belt went around her waist to match her pale blue dress. Adorned in her hair were tiny gems and pretty flowers. Her mother had made her the dress and had fixed her hair.

    Suitors were coming but she wanted none of it, but to be free in the woods with her friends, the trees, deer, tiny creatures and running rivers. She loved it all. Waking from a wonderful dreamless sleep she stretched and smiled at her silent curious friends. Holding out a hand for a butterfly she began to pet a rabbit with the other. It was so peaceful in the forest, she wished she would never have to leave.