An idea I came up with a few days ago, not totally developed. I was trying to get across the main idea of the story, but I think i failed to convey the title (which may be subject to change?) completely.
Also trying to decide if i should develop this more towards a novel setting, or a short story, or small book, maybe some input on that as well?
Please be harsh, it helps!
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You see, I’m a huge nerd, and I love to read fantasy novels, well I used to, but we can get to that in a bit. My friends are always telling me how nice it would be to be the warrior princess in a far off fantasy land, or the damsel in distress waiting for her prince charming to rescue her. Well, that’s how I used to feel too, well until they moved in.
My name is Jilli Hersh, I’m a sixteen old high school junior. I moved to Waterbrook, Michigan a few years ago with my family, my mom told me we had to move because of dad’s job. Now, I didn’t complain much, I had no friends in my old school, but one thing that bothered me is that I had no clue what my dad’s job was. They never did tell me when I complained about it. All I received was reassurance the move was worth it, and here I am.
When we first arrived I was twelve and my hopes of making friends were small, but I quickly found a group of people that had similar interests. I was finally happy; I had friends, an amazing house, and a backyard the size of a football field. It had a privacy fence, which was perfect for my friends’ masquerades and fantasy adventures. These were the things that made me happy, well for a time anyway.
Now I find myself wondering if I will be graced with waking up in the morning. At least that’s how they put it, I don’t find it funny though.. When they first arrived, I was scared of them. What twelve year old girl wouldn’t be? They brought us to our first contact with their kind, well I guess that’s not correct, my first contact.
They were what we humans would normally call “Werewolves” in a very loose translation of the term. Yes they were wolves, but had no human blood. Big, is a good word to describe them as well, really big, as in truck big. If you’re scared now, I would suggest you stop reading, because it gets worse, much worse.
Wintermanes, that’s what they told me to call them back then. I have since learned in the following years, that it is a mistake to knowingly do otherwise. When they first came, they were only seeking a temporary shelter. They came to like it though, and they grew close to us. I grew close to one in particular, her name was Irisa. She, in relative years, is the same age as I am.
I was sad when she first left with her pack; I thought they were leaving for good. When the Wintermanes returned the next winter I was, to say the least, overjoyed. We acted similarly in a sense. She was frail, and pale in contrast to the rest of her kind, as was I. She was fascinated with the human world, a world she was forced to hide from, I was fascinated with her world, a world my father told me was too dangerous to frequent. We would exchange our stories with each other, and as always, we dreamed and fantasized over them.
Unfortunately, this is the only good thing I can find in the Wintermanes. Father let them stay, which brought us danger. Irisa had informed during their first stay, that they were important in their world, dignitaries for a dying empire. Many times has their being here brought would be murderers, and assassins to our door.
Little did they know that Eramet traveled with the family, little time did they have to realize it before they found their faces being crunched between the teeth of the monstrous bear. I liked him as well, he seemed scary, but was only a lumbering softy to those he enjoyed being with.
Points: 1040
Reviews: 12
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