On Thin Ice

I gave a shiver as I twisted the handle of the wide door and stepped into the cold. My horse danced around me, her hooves crunching upon the frozen snow. I spoke to her softly as she danced around me. Finally, the white mare stood still next to me, alert and looking around.

"Mom, I need the flashlight," I said, nervously glancing at the snowdrifts. She handed it to me, and I flicked it on, shining the weak beam onto the ground. "It doesn't help," I sighed, turning it off once more.

I gripped the leadrope tightly. Stella and I took small steps forward, and I tried to guide her so that she would not slip, but both of us would slide on the icy ground. As her head flung up and she sought to seek her balance, I slackened my hold on the rope so she could catch herself. Her pasture mate whinnied anxiously, trotting across the fenceline only seventy yards away. We slowly approached the hill, following the worn tracks where the ATV had driven. Upon the snow that had began to melt and then freeze again, my boots left no mark and did not sink in. We had almost made it up the small hill, but Stella suddenly veered toward the left, her ears flicking forward as she looked at the other horse. I stepped toward the left also onto the slick frozen snow. I felt myself slipping down, and I attempted to dig my heels into the ground but I could not. I cried out as Stella began walking forward, oblivious to my predicament. As I slipped farther down, the leadrope was beginning to run out. My mare skidded as she walked forward, and I was afraid of what to do. My mother stood back near the barn. Fearing that I would drag Stella down as well, I let go of her leadrope and watched her walk away.

"Stella," I pleaded, "halt!" She walked forward, and I attempted to climb up to her. "Oh god, please halt!" Crawling on my hands and knees, I could not reach her.

How cruel fate was. I pictured her galloping away across the ice, the leadrope flinging in the air until it was caught under her foot and she would fearfully jerk her head up and go tumbling forward, dead before my eyes. I called out, "Mom, please, help her!" and concentrated on climbing up as my mother slowly approached her.

"Dammit," I swore loudly, as I slipped yet again. Blushing in the cold winter air, I hurriedly apologized to my mother who seemed not to care at this moment, despite this being the first time I ever said anything vulgar in front of her.

The leadrope swung between Stella's legs as she halted. My mother approached her timidly. She feared horses all her life, stemming from a bad experience in her childhood. I saw my mom reach out and grab her leadrope. Tears began forming in my eyes - before I was too afraid to cry, worried that my horse would be ripped away from me after over four years of riding her. I scrambled upwards onto my feet, my voice breaking as I patted my horse, saying "Good girl, Stella," as I prayed to the heaven in thanks that my horse was spared this icy winter day.

very nice! i am eagerly awaiting the next part of this story so get writing! ok heres your critique:

Dreami wrote:I gave a shiver as I twisted the handle of the wide door and stepped into the cold. My horse danced around me, her hooves crunching upon the frozen snow. I spoke to her softly as she danced around me. Finally, the white mare stood still next to me, alert and looking around.

repetitive, change the second one to 'pawed the ground nervously' or something

"Mom, I need the flashlight," I said, nervously glancing at the snowdrifts. She handed it to me, and I flicked it on, shining the weak beam onto the ground. "It doesn't help," I sighed, turning it off once more.

I gripped the leadrope tightly. Stella and I took small steps forward, and I tried to guide her so that she would not slip, but both of us would slide on the icy ground. As her head flung up and she sought to seek her balance, I slackened my hold on the rope so she could catch herself. Her pasture mate whinnied anxiously, trotting across the fenceline only seventy yards away. We slowly approached the hill, following the worn tracks where the ATV had driven. Upon the snow that had began to melt and then freeze again, my boots left no mark and did not sink in. We had almost made it up the small hill, but Stella suddenly veered toward the left, her ears flicking forward as she looked at the other horse. I stepped toward the left also onto the slick frozen snow. I felt myself slipping down, and I attempted to dig my heels into the ground but I could not. I cried out as Stella began walking forward, oblivious to my predicament. As I slipped farther down, the leadrope was beginning to run out. My mare skidded as she walked forward, and I was afraid of what to do. My mother stood back near the barn. Fearing that I would drag Stella down as well, I let go of her leadrope and watched her walk away.

change to 'both of us slid' in order to keep with the tense

"Stella," I pleaded, "halt!" She walked forward, and I attempted to climb up to her. "Oh god, please halt!" Crawling on my hands and knees, I could not reach her.

this is unclear, where did she fall into? what is she climbing out of?

How cruel fate was. I pictured her galloping away across the ice, the leadrope flinging in the air until it was caught under her foot and she would fearfully jerk her head up and go tumbling forward, dead before my eyes. I called out, "Mom, please, help her!" and concentrated on climbing up as my mother slowly approached her.

i think if u took out the before my eyes, it would deliver the message better. the bluntness would work nicely but thats just my opinion

"Dammit," I swore loudly, as I slipped yet again. Blushing in the cold winter air, I hurriedly apologized to my mother who seemed not to care at this moment, despite this being the first time I ever said anything vulgar in front of her.

The leadrope swung between Stella's legs as she halted. My mother approached her timidly. She feared horses all her life, stemming from a bad experience in her childhood. I saw my mom reach out and grab her leadrope. Tears began forming in my eyes - before I was too afraid to cry, worried that my horse would be ripped away from me after over four years of riding her. I scrambled upwards onto my feet, my voice breaking as I patted my horse, saying "Good girl, Stella," as I prayed to the heaven in thanks that my horse was spared this icy winter day.

this was great!!!! i cant wait for the next one, promise me you'll pm me when its out? u better! the only thing to work on is clarity, what happened is a little confusing, especially the part where she slips. u have fabulous imagery though! u better pm me when the next one comes

Brilliant! I love your style of writing.
Some parts confused me a little, i think cat4prowl has already pointed them out.
Apart from that, good work. Kudos.

Yay! A horse story! I haven't read one of these for ages.

I gave a shiver as I twisted the handle of the wide door and stepped into the cold. My horse danced around me, her hooves crunching upon the frozen snow. I spoke to her softly as she danced around me. Finally, the white mare stood still next to me, alert and looking around.

The first sentence is awkward. I would suggest re-writing that one sentence, it doesn't make fore a great opening. Also, you have two 'danced'. I would recommended changing the first of second one to get rid of repetition.

The rest of it was good, but I don't get why she was outside with her horse in the first place. There didn't seem to be a particukar point in the story.

Again, thanks for a horsey one.

It is nice to have a horse-writer in the neighborhood.

Sweet story, but it didn't make a lot of sense. I couldn't get a good mental image of the surroundings, and I cannot for the life of me understand why the horse was in danger. However, you have a good sense of conveying emotion. If you clear up the danger, this could be really good.

I gave a shiver as I twisted the handle of the wide door and stepped into the cold. My horse danced around me, her hooves crunching upon the frozen snow. I spoke to her softly as she danced around me. Finally, the white mare stood still next to me, alert and looking around.

"Mom, I need the flashlight," I said, nervously glancing at the snowdrifts. She handed it to me, and I flicked it on, shining the weak beam onto the ground. "It doesn't help," I sighed, turning it off once more.

This makes it sound like the horse is her mom. You need a transition between talking about your horse and your mother.

Great job! Keep writing!

Okay... Version Two, because frankly, like most of my stories, Version One sucked. Details have been added, some imagery has been changed, and stuff has been cleared up. More reviews are always welcome. ^.^ I really appreciate all the help. It can be very hard to read your own work, because you forget to tell some details that you know that the reader is unaware of.
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I tugged the heavy burgandy blanket onto my mare's fuzzy coat, fumbling with the metal buckles. She munched contentedly on a carrot while I cleaned up, returning the mahogany saddle and sweaty saddle pad to my tack room. Clicking the lead rope into place, we walked through the barn, her hooves echoing on the cement floor. I gave a shiver as I twisted the handle of the wide door and the first blast of wind and swirling snowflakes greeted me. Stella danced around me, her hooves crunching upon the frozen snow. I calmed her through quiet whispers until the white mare stood still next to me, alert and looking around curiously.

As the door behind us opened a second time, my mother stepped out into the wintery air."I need the flashlight, Mom," I said, nervously glancing at the snowdrifts piled near the gravel road. She handed it to me, and I clicked it on, shining the weak beam onto the ground. It flickered and danced, sparkling on the frost and making dim shadows. "It doesn't help," I sighed, turning it off once more.

I gripped the leadrope tightly, my knuckles whitening. Stella and I took small steps forward, and I tried to guide her so that she would not slip, but both of us skidded sideways on the icy ground. As her head flung up and she sought to seek her balance, I slackened my hold on the rope so she could catch herself. Her pasture mate whinnied anxiously, trotting across the fenceline only seventy yards away. We slowly approached the hill that curved slightly upwards, following the worn tracks that had ripped through the snow to the frozen mud where the ATV had driven. The snow had fluttered down several days ago, and melted in the warming afternoon sun. Overnight, it had frozen into a sheet of ice that my boots would not sink into or make any mark upon. We had almost made it up the small hill, but Stella suddenly veered toward the left, her ears flicking forward as she looked at the other horse. I stepped toward the left, unaware that it would be onto the slick frozen snow. I felt myself slipping down slowly, and I attempted to brace myself by digging my heels into the ground but nothing would help. I cried out as Stella began walking forward and towards her friend, oblivious to my predicament. As I slipped farther down, the leadrope streched taut between us. My mare skidded as she continued, and I was afraid of what to do. My mother stood back near the barn. Fearing that I would drag Stella down the hill into the drainage area as well, I let go of her leadrope and watched her walk away.

"Stella," I pleaded, "halt!" She continued moving, so I attempted to climb up to her. "Oh god, please halt!" Crawling on my hands and knees, I tried to dig my numb hands into the ground, but could not get out of the drainage area.

How cruel fate was. Whenever I would fall off her, pummeling into the ground she would slide to a halt beside me, her muzzle nosing me in comfort, but at this time, when it was her in danger of slipping on the frozen ground, she was unaware that I was not beside her. I could already imagine her, my faithful horse, galloping away across the ice, the leadrope flinging in the air until it was caught under her foot and she would fearfully jerk her head up and go tumbling forward, crashing down. I called out, "Mom, please, help her!" and concentrated on trying to pull myseslf up as my mother slowly approached her.

"Dammit," I swore loudly, as I slipped yet again. Blushing in the cold winter air, I hurriedly apologized to my mother who seemed not to care at this moment, despite this being the first time I ever said anything vulgar in front of her.

The leadrope swung between Stella's legs as she halted. My mother approached her timidly. I could see her hands shaking as she reached out toward the leadrope. She feared horses all her life, stemming from a bad experience in her childhood. Tears began forming in my eyes - before I was too afraid to cry, desensitized, worried that my horse would be ripped away from me after over four years of riding her. I scrambled upwards onto my feet, my voice breaking as I patted my horse, saying "Good girl, Stella." I prayed to the heavens in thanks that my horse was spared this icy winter day when it could have so easily been her death.

The revision was good.

Eh...I just realized that there's a revised edition. >.<
I started this critique a couple days back, but I [was] grounded so I didn't get the chance to finish. I'm done now, though, so forgive me if I repeat what's already been said.

I gave a shiver as I twisted the handle of the wide door and stepped into the cold. My horse danced around me, her hooves crunching upon the frozen snow. I spoke to her softly as she danced around me. Finally, the white mare stood still next to me, alert and looking around.

You have a nice starting sentence, but it seems a little awkwardly phrased. I would suggest something like: I shivered as I twisted the handle of the wide door and stepped into the cold.
I also underlined 'frozen' because I don't think it's necessary. Obviously snow is frozen.

Her pasture mate whinnied anxiously, trotting across the fenceline only seventy yards away. We slowly approached the hill, following the worn tracks where the ATV had driven. Upon the snow that had began to melt and then freeze again, my boots left no mark and did not sink in. We had almost made it up the small hill, but Stella suddenly veered toward the left, her ears flicking forward as she looked at the other horse. I stepped toward the left also onto the slick frozen snow.

This whole bit has a kind of odd flow, because of the commas in the middle of the sentences. There must be a name for this kind of issue, but I don't know it.
I can't exactly describe it - try reading it aloud; maybe you'll understand what I mean.

How cruel fate was.

Whoa, dramatic! This doesn't seem appropriate, seeing as the horse isn't dead.


You have a very clean writing style, Dreami.
This was a nice piece of writing, but it's not my cuppa tea, you know? I mean, there's nothing wrong with it, but it just doesn't appeal to me. I prefer writing that uses more metaphors and similes; with lots of description. Like Azila's writing. If you want your writing to be that way, I would suggest reading some of her stuff.

I'm sorry if this wasn't very helpful...>.< Hopefully I can read & review your revised edition soon though!

Keep writing!
-Camille

P.s.- Err, Kyte? I know all of your reviews are one-sentences/very short, but no offense...I hate to sound all grumpy...that didn't seem like a helpful critique.