Young Writers Society

This is the beginning of a story centreing around the girl Syal, but i don't know if it all is flowing so well/


Winters in the north were long and hard, as the black ice laced the bitter hilltops, long hard lances of the high winds from the north scattered dead leaves from the resting place of fall. Syal leaned against the cold stone window frame and gazed out across the open fields as the first flakes of snow drifted in over the valley, a long, smooth strip of bamboo she held out into the air, swiping drifts as they passed. The snow she had seen before, and the pastures with men and horse, but this excited her all the same, though somewhat small in evidence to look upon.
“‘You go to your stitching lesson today, Syal?”
The girl turned from the window to see her brother skip up the last two stairs behind her. He was dressed in light shorts and a tight grey training vest, and his eyes spoke of sleep.
“Take me to the quarter Chriten,” she said, stepping away from the window. She thrust the stick into an invisible adversary and mimicked a parry. “I want to practice.” Lowering the stick, she complained, “I never get to practice, it’s always stupid sewing or balancing things on my head. Stupid lady stuff, as if mother does stuff like that.”
“You never even go, little sister,” Chriten laughed, snatching the stick from her hand. “But come on then. I’ll show you what the Capitan taught me yesterday, but you’ll have to wait in the kitchens I’m awfully starved.” The two set off down the corridor and into the warmth of the kitchens. The sun was not quite up but it was well light and breakfast was well underway, Chriten snatched two pastries from one of the trays and a piece of buttered toast. Handing Syal one of the pastries, they raced from the kitchens and out into the main courtyard below. The main courtyard, despite its name, was rarely used. Gnarly old chestnuts sheltered it from the sun that never came, and it was as spacious as it was empty. Brittle leaves of late autumn littered the ground and shuffled lightly in the breeze, but the heavy oaken doors were pried open into the forest, and thus the two escaped easily with sticky fingers and empty hands

It is very good so far. Though it didn't get me hocked at the beginning. Keep it up and I cant wait to see the second half.

It's short, but I can see already it's well-written and I'm expecting some good stuff with the follow up. Don't disappoint me, okay!?

I like thus far, but it seems almost too wordy. Try using less adjectives, or spreading them out more, to make the sentences less heavy. That seems to fix itself as it progresses though. There are some spelling errors, but that can be fixed with editing. I do hope that this isn't the very beginning, it seems a little incomplete (outside of the fact that this is only a portion of it). Try writing up a prelude of somesort to this to better introduce the characters and the setting. I feel like I'm lost and sitting among strangers.

Constructive critisism,
~Me