Again, don't waste time looking at the grammar and spelling, this is for my nano, so....just tell me what you think about the idea
It was half-past-twelve and the Lake District National Park was closed for visitors. The moon shone brightly among the small stars. A cool breeze shook the trees and they swayed endlessly, falling into an endless rhthym.
In the middle of the facility rested a small cottage made out of wood. Closed out by the thick woods, it wasn’t visible to a casual passerby and was barely capable of housing three people.
The window propped open to reveal a worried woman glancing around nervously into the night before closing it tightly shut. She dissapeared into a small room in the corner.
The cottage was over-stuffed with books, papers, a globe and three armchairs. They were placed awkwardly placed in order to compensate for the lack of space. It was impossible to walk through without bumping into something.
A small, cozy fireplace rested beside the arm chairs. At first glance, it was just an ordinary fireplace but a closer look would reveal tiny, orange creatures buzzing busily through the small space. It was as if they were stuck in a rut, and were climbing on each other to get out, hence the crackling sound. Everything from their thin bodies and huge, red eyes were out of the ordinary.
The coffee table was scattered with papers and an ink bottle was left open next to an unfinished letter.
The mantlepiece was crowded with other trinkets such as a small pictures, long, features, brushes and bottles of power piled near the corner. A small, black animal with pointy ears and a pair of transluscent winngs was sleeping soundlessly inside of a glass jar.
The lady emerged from the tiny room wearing a light green dress which appeared to be made of silk. She plopped down onto the plush armchair and seemed to be in a fit of rage. A pair of transparent, medium sized wings with an intricate design protruded from her spine. Her hand was rested on her forehead, hiding her face. Her long, black, curls cascaded down her back.
The man who followed was holding a small bundle and also shared a pair of transparent wings except his were darker in color. He looked exhausted, the wrinkles on his forehead prominent under the crimson glow surrounding the room.
“Oh, I can’t do this, you know I can’t!” she said helplessly.
“I know, Catherine, but its only choice we have,” the man let out an exhausted sign and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“By running away from home, Tristan?” she whispered. The man looked down at the moving bundle, a small arm extending forward, he smiled warmly.
“She has Elizabeth’s eyes,” he commented before looking back at the woman who was now eyeing the bundle with worry.
“She has the gift, it has been passed down to her, she can’t stay here anymore. It isn’t safe. The enemy already crossed the North Border, you have to leave before the next full moon, or their followers will catch your scent immediately,”
The lady seemed to sense the urgency in his voice because she took the bundle from the man’s arms, a single tear flowing down her pale cheeks. Her eyes were bright blue and catlike.
“She has the burden,” she whispered. “So innocent and unaware of the dangers her future holds,” Her voice breaking towards the end. She eyes held both affection and remorse.
“Not if we can help it,” the man assured, placing a hand on her shoulder. He manuvered his way around the small cottage mumbling something about space before grabbing the small globe resting beside the fireplace.
“Zilthrin and I have been observing Littleton for years now. Low population, uneventful and away from any major city,” He brought the globe near the fireplace and struggled to locate the small town. “It’s around here,” Catherine streched her neck to see under his thin finger, though it made no difference. She’d to leave Ezar and that was final. She took the bundle from Tristan and disappeared into the small room.
Tristan fell into the armchair, hands on forehead, and sighed with dismay. Zilthrin’s tireless efforts were all wasted, war was raging once again. The creatures of the night won’t rest until they have Lisa Rubin because of her gift.
His head snapped up at the sound of the door. He cautiously got up and walked to the window. A, tall, lean figure dressed in a cloak was standing in front of the door. A thin sheet of sweat formed on Tristan’s head as he opened the door. At the sight of the stranger’s face, his expression relaxed. A small boy, hidden behind the man’s tall stature, followed. The man lowered his head and struggled to fit in the tiny cottage. He sat in the arm chair and signaled the boy to follow.
The small boy had raven colored hair and silvery, gray eyes that scanned the room meticulously.
“What news Faledin?” Tristan asked taking a seat across from him.
“Not good I’m afraid, the ****** clan is closeby. They are catching the scent,” Faldein said.
“We’ll leave as soon as possible,” he turned his attention to the small boy who stood motionless.
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What do you think?
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