My New Works

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Before I start, I would just like to say I don't really know where this belongs, so I hope this is good.

Update: I have now included my poem, As the Crow Flies, and my short story, The Forest, with B.o.E. For more information on the two, check out my later post.
Update 2: I have just added the prologue for my new story, From Here I Go: The Story of a Snail. Please enjoy!

Also, you can also read all of the chapters and some of the other stuff I have written on Wattpad. The link to my Account is below. There are also some really good Redwall Fan Fics there to. I recommend Goodbye Gonff, very powerful and touching.
http://www.wattpad.com/user/mscott1106

I also have requests open right now for One Shot requests, just in case anyone would like to know.

Well, I have been absent from the forum for a few weeks. Several things have popped up, hindering my time on here, but I'm glad to be back. What came with that absence however, was a draft of my new story I plan to work on. It is not fully done being edited, but I'm close. Some of the elements are based off of Redwall, LOTR, and Narnia, but I tried to keep it Original. Since this is not a Fan-fic, I hope posting it here will be safe. Please leave any comments or things I missed, I would greatly enjoy hearing it.

The Bridge of Evon

Prologue

Prologue



    A young fox splashed through the river which had not only gotten smaller, but had grown slower. But the grand thing about this one river was the great golden oak tree which stood bright and tall with its roots coming in and out of the loamy soil that sat in the river bed. The amazing tree's golden leaves shone above the fox and his friends. Like the river, there was something odd about this fox. His coat of fur was not the normal reddish/orange, it was a deep blue, that sparkled in the sunlight. The grin on his cheery face made every soul around light up. What the fox was doing however, was something normal children would do: Dig. He and his friends (Who were not just foxes, but jackalopes, raccoons, mice, squirrels and other Woodland creatures) had found a oak wood box deep in the shallow riverbed. Together, they extricated the ark and placed it ashore. The blue fox, Llahsram, ran to get his father.
''Pop! Pop! We founds somdin!''   
A fox (Who was normal color) looked in the direction from which the shouts came. A smile streched across his face. He stood up, and winked at the female raccoon who was sitting next to him on the shore of the river.
''What is it son. Another shell?''
''No Pop! We found a box!''
The father fox's blue eyes looked down at his son, with an expression of awe on his face. He looked back over at the raccoon who had the same expression on her face as he.
''Well, show me!'' He told his son with a sound of excitement in his voice.
''Follow me Pop!''
Llahsram's father, Foxtamas, follwed at an earger pace towards the base of the tree where the group had been digging. The blue fox's pack backed up as his father knelt down in front of the oak wood chest. Slowly and carefully, he lifted the lid. Inside were four items: A golden tiara, a rock dagger, a small knife and a run down hakerchief. The fox stepped back with tears in his eyes. The female raccoon (Whose name was Acirema) put her grey hand on Foxtamas's shoulder. She too, had tears swelling in her eyes. The kids did not understand what was so great about the items in the wooden ark.
''Pop, wots the matter?''
Foxtamas looked up at his son and took his paw as a light current of water passed over his knees.
''Son, let's get you and your friends back to shore, and I'll tell you all the tale of these four things, Ok?''
''Ya Pop!''
Llahsram motioned for the others to follow him to the shore. Foxtamas closed the box and got up. Acirema looked up at the fox who had grown into a fine father. His blue eyes still shone like they did when they were kids. She did not bother him as he looked up at the sky with tears pouring down his face. His chin did not quiver, nor did his eyes blink as he looked up. A few moments later, he was in the middle of a group of youngsters waiting to hear the tale of two brothers, who not only loved each other, but would do anything for one another, even if it meant giving up one's life..
''Ok, well, it stared many years ago...''

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Chapter 1

Chapter 1


   Winter winds swept through the northern region of Evon, bringing with it snow and harsh ice storms. In the mist of the winter weather stood a grand oak, looming over the frost covered ground. Its self entirely was normal, nothing spectacular about it, for it was a Northland tree, which of those are broad and useful. The long limbs and wide, sturdy trunk where not only bruised from the harsh thrashings of the nipping cold, but the ice which shown as a light blue in the light had just finished growing onto the tree just as moss does to moist rocks or mold on wretched bread. Do not fear, for all trees did this, Evon of course was a much different place then our world, magical you could say. Inside the tree was carved a house ( As many northern folk make households, but the tree itself may vary from sycamore to large birches, to even sequoias) which was a home for a four-fox family, the Scottworths. The house was warm and cozy, a snug fire place built into the back giving off heat from the dancing flames. A case of stairs, carved from the tree, wound up its spine, revealing one medium sized room, with two beds to many. The overall size of the room was in no reason big enough for four beds, but thankfully the beds bunked, creating some form of living space for the family which resided there. Another feature to this quaint household was a kitchen larger than it should have been, an overly small table, and a chest full of treasures in the back corner. Outside, small light bugs called Gigyants fluttered past the tree and the family inside. To the Scottworth )6family, living in an oak tree in ------ wood in the northern region of Evon was home.
   The oil lamps burned in the kitchen, giving off the right amount of light for Foxlaris and Omaya to see. Omaya Scottworth was the mother of two fox children, Foxlaris the eldest, and Foxtamas the youngest. Her husband, Foxperch, was running late once more with the day's final meal.
''Foxlaris! Where are ya!''
A young voice could be heard from the stairwell, ''Right up 'ere Mother! Say Ma' when will Paw get back from his hunt?''
''Oh soon 'nough m' dear, findin' food ain't n' easy chore!''
Foxlaris rolled his brown eyes. If he could for once be sent for food, they would feast like kings! All Paw ever broguht back was roots and berries, the blandest things on the face of Evon. Foxlaris's thoughts where cut short by the front door opening, revealing a huge figure, covered by a white powder. He shook, off the snow, revealing  the great figure of stature emerged, covered in a heavy black tunic and cape. Though ragged and torn, the clothes caught the winter and made sure it did not attack poor Foxperch. As Omaya went to hug her beloved husband, he whispered something in her ear that not only broke her heart, but struck fear into her soul, causing her once homley face turn fear stricken. Another thing that happened while they where hugging, was a sly, small figure slid passed the grand fox and sat at the table. Taking off his hood, Foxtamas started to marvel at his latest find, three Gigyants captured in his jar!
''Oy Foxtamas! Where y' been?''
''Oh, Ma I was justa cathin' som' Gigyants for ya!''
Her sadness was forgotten for a quick moment as she thought of son's kind effort to bring her a gift.
''Well, they are quite lovely m'dear. You can go set it up in the room upstairs.''
''Alrighty Ma! Sounds great!'' exclaimed the small fox as he rushed by his elder brother, dropping snow down upon him as he ran up. Foxlaris shook the cold powder off than again rolled his eyes. Mother always had like Foxtamas better than he. His fur was more of a dark brown than an orange/red like a normal fox. Was that so bad? It was not his fault of course. Now his attention was turned to Foxperch's bag of food. Foxperch undid the rope binding then poured its contents upon the table.
''Berries and roots again! Why can't ya get some meat!''
''Son because we are poor! We are barley livin' off this!  Now be thankful for it!'' Boomed Foxperch.
With tears in his eyes, Foxlaris ran up the remaining stairs and into the small bedroom.
''Foxlaris, you a'right?'' asked his brother as he entered.
Foxlaris cast a furious glare towards his younger sibling. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the jar of Gigyants Foxtamas had brought up sitting on the small nightstand in between the bunked sets of beds. With all of his rage, Foxlaris swung, knock the jar off and shattering it into small fragments of glass, and letting the three capture light-bugs free from captivivty.
''Foxlaris! Why!'' yelled Foxtamas as tears also swelled in his eyes.  Footsteps where heard climbing up the stairs. Withen seconds, Foxperch was looming over the pair of brothers.
''What happened 'ere!''
''Paw, Foxlaris broke Ma's present!''
Foxtamas's cries hindered him from finishing. Foxperch cast a glare to the furious Foxlaris. He was about to yell at his son, but was interrupted by his wife walking up.
''Omaya, its fine. Foxlaris just knocked over the jar. Here, take Foxtamas, I need to talk to Foxlaris.'' With that, Omaya took the crying fox into her arms and led him downstairs while a father-son talk began.
     Dishes where put up, chairs pushed in, and yawns released as the family of four headed up to bed. The unsatisfying meal that was just consumed felt good in their small stomachs. Foxlaris was still in a rotten mood, the meal not helping. He was last to reach the room, not wanting to go near his younger sibling.
''Ma, why y' shiverin'? Ya cold?'' butted in Foxtamas as they made it to the top.
''No hunny, just well. You know, lets pray to Roigmolah before we rest shall we?''
''Sure ma! Sounds good!'' Foxtamas said as he knelt down next to his elder brother who looked sour.
''Alright let's begin. Dear, Roigmolah, let us all have a good rest and good sleep, and let our lives be filled with your love. We love you a lot Roigmolah!'' In a quiter voice, Omaya muttered, ''Oh please protect my children oh please!''
''Amen,'' said Foxperch as he rose and climbed the quite unstable ladder into the top bunk.
''What was that last part Ma?'' Foxtamas asked with wonder.
''Oh, notin' m'dear. Let's rest now, we got 'nother day ahead!''
The trio got into their beds, Foxlaris and Omaya on the bottem, and Foxtamas and Foxperch on top. The bright silver moon shone through the window, Gigyants, flying around peacefully, doing their duties as givers of light. The frosted air still stung around, but not in this tiny home. The fireplace was put out, and the Scottworths where all in their beds, snug and ready for a nice, restful sleep. But something kept Foxtamas up. His mother kept shivering, just like she had before. This bothered the young fox. He knew something was wrong, very wrong. His mother never acted this way. Foxtamas sensed something bad in the near future, and he was correct.

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Chapter 2

Chapter 2



   Smells of smoke and flame diffused around the house. The heat of fire not only danced on the walls making them seem as if they were alive, but touched them ever so slightly, creating bright orange and red images, flailing and dancing with a rhythm only those who were made alongside it could match. Together they spread, teaching the new creations the ways of their kind. When enough of these simple beings gathered, the aroma, which was brought from the depths of the surface on which they glistened, soared among its masters, climbing and rising, until finally, it reached a passage for escape. Traveled up and around freely it did in the rich, black night sky, never again seeing its masters, but only for a brief moment. For it looked like sun on a clear morning day, prominent and striking, but only, it thus was at night, in the middle of the woods, burning, and ripping the foundations of a family and home, apart.
        Sounds of yelling, screaming, and the fire's roar where acknowledged by the young fox's ears. As he rose from his slumber, a wad of smoke and ash was taken into his lungs. Immediately, Foxtamas let a whooping cough, that cleared away some of the smoke and let him see what had become of his home. The place of which he had rested since the night he had been born into this world was fading to the fire and heat of the flames. All of the smooth, detailed designs on the walls which had taken years of work to carve, engulfed by its only enemy. Around him, he could feel the press of the heat, nipping at him, hurting him, burning him. All of this, of course, was a lot for the small creature to take in. While in awe, the bunked bed on which he sat, gave way to the predator, and collapsed, bringing young Foxtamas to the ground. Embers flew up in the air as the wood toppled down into the flames. Through the rubble however, the fox climbed out, full of scars, bruises, and burns, his young blood spilling out of his wounds, creating a stain on his clothes and fur. The pain was unlike any other he had sustained before. It sunk in deep, making every movement feel like a stab to the chest, or a mass of weight being thrown on top if his developing body. He lay there, not being able to move far from anywhere. Little to no pure air was left in the burning tree. It was just filled with thick, black smoke. All hope seemed lost. Everywhere he looked, fire roared, the danger of it coming to attack and finally kill the poor, innocent soul. Walls of fire danced around him, searing his fur little by little. Even the ground below him was growing hot, and would soon collapse down as well. This was his fate, to be burned to death or suffocated in his own home.
"Foxtamas! Baby where are ya! Get over 'ere fast! We gotta go!''
These calls reached the dying fox. Was that Omaya? Where was she? More calls where heard, but no response came to them. Until a hoarse voice spoke out,
"Ma! I'm-*cough* up here! He-*cough*-lp!"
With one of his last breaths he delivered those words. Too quiet were they, and nobody could hear them. Everything started to fade. Loud crashes and small flashing embers where all the young creature could hear and see. No air was left. As he gave his final breath, something happened. A high pitch scream came from outside, through the open window. Following it where sounds of metal and rage. More screams were heard, followed by yells from a male. All of this Foxtamas heard. His family was in danger! He did not know by who or what, but something. Never would he let them down, for they gave him so much when they had so little. Even if he were to die tonight, he would die by them. With one great heave of effort and force, the valiant fox rose from the floor, and stood among the flames. Not too far from him was the window, left wide open. Now was his chance. Never again would he be able to do this, of he lived or died. Gasping for one final breath, he ran, and jumped out the window, fire catching on to his fir and hide, ripping away at his ragged tunic which already had too many holes, and making its way to his skin. Relieved he was as all those burns touched the soft, white snow. This too hurt, but not as much as fire's touch. The fox scrambled up, and breathed in some of the air not polluted by smoke. A few yards away, his mother and Foxlaris stood, hiding behind a patch of trees. Away he went, staggering to reach them.
"Foxtamas! Why, you're here!" cried out Omaya as even more tears ran down here fearful face. She took her son in by her, but that moment of reconnection was short lived. A mangled old voice, that sounded rageful and intoxicated shouted out, "Oi! The rest o' dem over there!"
Peering through the smoke to see who had yelled them, he saw a figure, who looked to be his father, fighting large black creatures with a curved blade. His concentration was taken from Omaya yelling at the two.
"Run boys! Hurry! Me and Pop will catch up with ya. Hurry!"
"Ma! No! I won't leave!" cried Foxtamas as he clung to his mother.
"Honey go! Now! Listen to me, we will be alright!"
Tears ran down Foxtamas's face as his older sibling pulled him away. Before he let go, his mother handed him a simple pocket hanker chief to wipe his face. Together, the two ran on their wobbly legs into the deep forest under the pressure of heavy smoke and cold winds. Taking one last look back, he saw his very own mother, the one who had raised him and taken care of him all of his life, run into the mass of smoke towards her faithful husband, leaving only her painful screams behind.
    The pair ran on, both fear stricken for their own lives and those of their parents. Foxtamas was still being pulled by his paw by Foxlaris. All of this emotion the young fox had been feeling caused him to stumble and fall more often than usual, leading them to go at a slower pace. Even Foxlaris felt this. Being the more sickly of the two, Foxlaris needed more air for his small lungs. The smoke didn't help either, making him gasp more frequently. After running for a good five minutes, Foxlaris gave. With his little brother behind him, he fell down into the soft freezing ground. The poor fox was very short on breath, and his legs where numb from all of the running. Luckily, Foxtamas stopped before falling over. Tears filled his eyes as he looked down at his brother. He jumped down and made sure he was breathing. Faint as it was, he heard it. After this quick check, he tried dragging his unconscious body to a large ice cover birch. This took some time, but he managed to get it over. Foxtamas tried to wake him up, but nothing would work. This added even more worries to his already large bucket full of emotions. He sat his little body down next to his brothers. His clothes and fur were singed, most of his skin was either brutally bruned or frozen solid. The large tears he tried to hold back finally came pouring out. There was nothing more for him to do. He would have been better off burning in the house. While grieving over his now torn apart life, he heard heavy footstep marching towards the place where he sat. Was Ma and Pop finally here! His head peeked out from behind the tree. What he saw was not his parents. There stood a great black creature, its axe gleaming in the pale moonlight. The beady red eyes scanned the area in search of a new prey to pounce on and devour. A dark hood covered its large head, which was full of evil, pain, and malice.
"Where y' hoidin' foxies? Com out now, I only wunt to tulk t' ya!"
Terrified, Foxtamas kept his head down close to his brother. Now they were really doomed. As hard as it was, Foxtamas held back the warm tears burning inside of him. He looked down, being prepared for his head to be clean off in a moments time. Looking down, he saw a small gleam from Foxlaris's belt. Slowly and quietly, he slid the small pocket knife out of its holding. So many thoughts ran through his mind. The sounds of steps drawing nearer, the blade which he held in his hand, his brother unconscious, the burns and wound on his small body. No longer could he take it. He had enough endurance for one miracle tonight, and he could certainly have enough for a second. With a forward rush, Foxtamas jumped up and ran straight into the dark figure with the small knife in front of him. So much force was put into that one blow, that it knocked the large creature to the ground, slain by a young fox. Foxtamas tugged the blood (which was deep black in color) covered blade out of the figure's chest. The life-less red eyes seemed to stare at him, reminding him of the situation he was in. He held Foxtamas in his dead, cold stare, putting thoughts into the fox's head like poison from a snake's fangs. Foxtamas broke from this gaze, not knowing the trickery his soul was trying to play. He tucked away the knife in his pocket and went back to Foxlaris who seemed to be waking up.
"F-f-foxlaris! Get u-up!" he muttered in his fearful voice.
"Uh, where are we?"
"No time! H-hurry, we g-g-gotta go!"
Foxtamas hauled up his older brother, and put his arm under his shoulder, giving him stability.
"Come on!"
The arrogant young fox stood up and regained his composure, and followed his younger sibling through the ice covered forest.
   The pair walked slower this time, making careful of every step. Foxlaris was slowly remembering the night's events. Foxtamas however, was trying so hard to shake off the shock of killing someone. Both had their own thoughts, and neither one of them told the other of what they were thinking. Thump! Foxtamas tripped unexpectedly on an overgrown tree root. He looked up and saw a marvelous sight. Strangely enough, he had fallen in some sort of small clearing. Everywhere he looked, he saw small, luscious violet lotus's dotting the scene. They drew atop the large bushes and trees of the surrounding area. Even on the snow covered ground they shown like beautiful over grown weeds. Each petal shown in its own unique way. Everything about them was left the recipient of their beauty in awe. In the main center though, where large masses of stone bricks, bigger than both of the foxes. Along the tops of them where a bunch of odd symbols, that looked lie normal Evonian letters, but different. Tall pillars and arches still stood however, but only a few. The rest apparently had fallen or crumbles down with age. The whole place had a purple aura and feel to it. This place was not natural, but put here by some supernatural being, for its mysterious, yet embracing sense was far more than the normal mystique of Evon. Foxtamas got up off the ground and walked in. The shear, beauty of the place marveled the young creature. Upon walking into the middle however, he began to feel dizzy and drowsy. Foxlaris, who had walked in there as well, began to feel the same way. After a couple of second of this loopy feeling, both collapsed onto the fallen stones. Foxtamas barely kept his eyes open, but when he did, he saw the whole area spinning. All of the beautiful flowers became one large violet haze. It looked as if an artist had put two small dots of orange on his pallet of my different rich, radiant purples and mixed it all together, creating a wonderful effect. He soon closed back his eyes and saw a bright flash of a blue bird, its feathers long and great, showing a power of position. His wings which were as hard as steal and yet soft like a fresh baked loaf of parsley bread came and caught the two creatures while the world around them spun. When he felt safe, Foxtamas opened his eyes, and found himself in a small cot next to a fireplace which was heating up nicely. An odd creature loomed over him, it's long brown antlers creating a shadow on his face. A soft paw touched his cheek, and soft kind words were spoken into his ear.
"Come on now laddie, wake oup!''

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As The Crow Flies

As The Crow Flies


As the crow flies,
It doesn't seem like much,
This world we live on,
From above.
But I tell you,
It is much more,
Than what he sees,
As the crow flies.

As the crow flies,
Mountains only dots.
But from our view,
They are giants of rock.
Adorned with powder,
Cold as cold itself.
But all this is a mere speck,
As the crow flies.

As the crow flies,
Forests are patches of rich green.
Our earthbound view is different,
The grand gathering of old friends.
Their suits crafted with hard bark,
And top hats green as luscious grass.
Just a spot this all is,
As the crow flies.

As the crow flies,
Trickles are what rivers seem.
But the way we see it,
Roaring lanes of the substance of life.
The foam and spray,
Wisps and splash 'round.
A trace of water this all is,
As the crow flies.

As the crow flies,
Our world may not seem large.
Mountains small, Forests spots, and rivers oozes of water.
But I tell you,
We might seem small, but remember,
Our view of earth is different,
Than what he sees,
As the crow flies

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The Forest

Leaves lay still, untouched. Noises are but a distant memory in this long forgotten place. The land is full of rotting, dead trees, the only variation in the horrid area. Earth beneath has been robbed of its nutrients from lack of precious sunlight, turning the once soft dirt hard and uninhabitable. Oh, the ecosystem which once thrived here has long been replaced by nothing more than overgrown thickets and harsh, chilled air. Skies above have gone from a homely blue to a dreary wretched dark gray, never letting in sunlight nor brightness. Plants have long withered and animals gone, never wanting to come back to this awful scene. Ness where birds once lived in a family order now rot with the stench of decomposing eggs. Fox holes became bare and caved in, mole mines in the same fashion. Logs from rotten trees lay still, becoming a meal for hungry termites. As they eat, the once tall, grand tree turns into a long, forgotten memory. Life seems to be drained from this place. Hollow. Empty. Dead.
   The long forgotten leaves crunched under the soft, yet forceful footstep. Something stirred in the dull, weary place of sickness. The man, who looked old and wise as time itself, stopped between two dead trees, their branches bare, long since covered with beautiful leaves. His mysterious aqua blue eyes scanned through the ill place, stricken with nothing but despair. For the first time, a smile of some joy followed by a slight chuckle was seen and heard through the dark depths of the forest. A sharp, loud whistle came from the bearded mouth of the man's wrinkled face. As if out of thin air, bird song was heard. The lovely sound was completely in sync with the odd man's tune. As his head turned, his bright eyes spotted a little red robin, sitting politely on the edge of a dead oak's branch. The smile upon his face grew, along with his enjoyable tune. When he began to move about, a small spring was put into his step. As the song went about, the more good things happened! The robin begun to make a new nest reusing old sticks from the old fallen trees. Flowers started to bloom, and dark, dreary clouds pulled back, revealing long forgotten blue skies. As if light, the tune sunk into the hard cracked soil. Its soft yet powerful voice renewed the soil, returning it back to moist, loamy earth. Out from this substance, moles, once thought extinct from this horrid popped their noses up, sniffing the pure, clean air that was once plagued. The moles ruff looking eyes glared t the sun, but snuggled back into the burrow (As most moles often do). Another creature came back also. The fox, red and cunning as his ancestors before, wobbled out of an old fallen log. H   is looked upward, letting the refreshing sunlight reflect the deep rich colors expressed by his glossy fur coat. Oh! The energy the fox felt made him dash around, looking up at the old wounded trees take on a new life full of color and joy. His keen ears picked up the mysterious man's whistle. With a mighty leap, the fox sprang over a new blue berry which was once smothered by the evil thicket of thorns. The man saw the majestic creature coming, so he bent over and pet him upon arrival. He got up afterword and continued the journey through the broken forest, healing it and bringing happiness to the old, empty place.
   Leaves move through the refreshing wind. Noises from animals and plants are a common staple in the lovely forest. Beautiful flowers, lively trees, and curious animals can be seen from any view. The fertile, loamy soil lets harmless worms run free, while giving homes tom other creatures. A new fully functional ecosystem was hidden around this forest of wonders and life. The beautiful bright blue skies shown above without a cloud sailing in the ocean of light. Flowers and plants abundantly sprang up, thriving around every which way. Animals are a common theme in the amazing area, bringing joy and cheer. Nests are full eggs and parent birds, loving their home made form hard labor. Fox holes and mole tunnels follow the example of the bird's nests. Rotting trees have now decomposed, never once seeming like they once lay dead. The glorious trees stand tall, flourished with rich green leaves, never getting close to death. Its been three years since the mysterious man visited this forest. Everything has changed. Life seems to be back in this place, which ever way you look. Thriving. Full. Alive.

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From Here I Go: The Story of a Snail

Prologue/Introduction

Adventure: This Instinct, absorbed, held, and used through every living creature that has ever touched this Earth or smelled its air, comes from the nature and will of us. It leads to discoveries, that takes the knowledge bestowed upon us, and makes it a home for these new thoughts and ideas that when we were created, we as a whole would have never dreamed about. Exploration is its son, in which this element makes us test our boundaries, create wonderful, skillful concepts composed of our very own gifts, and gives us a home, just like we gave it. Together, we and this thing we call, 'Adventure' can create something, beyond belief, imagination, and the realm of possibility. Lo, with it we have compromised much and completed more, but out there, a place which hold the label of 'open', and 'free', could become more than a home, or a place of comfort, but a land, in which we live our lives with one another, in the slight balance of harmony. Possible it could be, if only my son, we take on this sense of adventure and use it at our will. For with it, the land given to us could be our own. A place where we discover, and explore, a place where we think, create and do. Harness it if you will, for you will meet me alongside you on your journey to reach this place that may not even exist. But when we reach it, it's up to you to decide if we have made it.

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[Banya]

Welcome back, Gonff!

I absolutely love your writing style.  It just appeals to me.  I like the depth you give your characters through their dialects (this is brilliant) and their names.  You had me intrigued while reading - I think if I'm reading and demanding answers, you're doing it right.  Like when Foxperch "whispered something in her ear that not only broke her heart, but struck fear into her soul" - this is a great line.  I want to know, but of course it's better for the story that I don't.  I was thrown off by the ------ parts.  The first few seemed to represent God or another higher power to whom the characters pray, but I wasn't sure about the last one.  You've totally got me hanging on the last line and I can't wait to read more!  Thanks for this; this is great, Gonff!

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Thank you very much!!! It means so much to me! As for those blanks, it seems I put up the wrong version, for I have them filled in somewhere else. I'll try to get it fixed!


EDIT: Ok, I got the right one up now. The only blank left is the forest which I am still deciding a name for.

[Blaggut]

Sweet! Though I'm a bit to tired to read it... So, Most Likely sweet!

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Ok, so I dug up some other stuff I wrote. The poem, As the Crow Flies, won two competitions and is going on to a third. The shorts story, The Forest, won two as well, but will not be moving on. I hope all of you enjoy them. Thanks!

[Banya]

You're a fantastic writer, Gonff.  There is so much imagery in your writing.  My favourite thing about your short story is that the third paragraph mirrors the first, yet everything is antithetical.  When is the third competition for your poem?

[Skyblade]

Very well written! I agree with Banya's post wholeheartedly. You are a great writer and it's good to see you back

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Thank you both very, very much!!! As for the third competition, it will be held in the following weeks at Dallas, Texas.

[CaptainRocktree]

I have read the prologue and I loved it!! Your an amazing writer!! I'll continue to read it tomorrow, But I can't wait to read it, Once again your an awesome write! 

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Thank you for the splendid complement Cap'n!

[MatthiasMan]

Quite the story. . . . I found this more enigmatic than I did exciting, interesting rather than anything else.

[Gonff the Mousethief]

I try to keep my writings different, it pays sometimes, others, not. Thank very much for the least!

[Skyblade]

Gonff, you're a great writer. Truly creative Will you keep adding to this?

[Gonff the Mousethief]

I guess if you want me to. I have recently started a new shirt book, From Here I Go: The Story of a Snail, so I could post the introduction. Plus I'm almost done with chapter 2 of BoE so I could post it as well.

[Skyblade]

Well, that would be cool if you want to, but I don't want to rush you, just to make it clear. Your best takes your time.