I've made more changes, again! the tips are great, keep them coming guys!
The early-day sun shone weakly down into the streets of the small village, casting shadows across the grass beside the paths. The thatched rooves shone with the morning's dew, and the houses' windows were still misty from the occupants' breath. A bright young girl, no more then 14 years old, strolled leisurely along the lanes, her steps light and sure. Her raven-hair bounced across her back while the wind blew a few strands into her intense face, and her calculating, blue eyes danced under her long lashes, taking in the familiar surroundings with interest.
Lyllan was traditionally the first one walking around and the villagers had become accustomed to the sound of her feet outside their windows at the earliest possible hour. She enjoyed these peaceful minutes, they gave her time to think.
But this morning she walked with purpose, a determined look in her eyes. Striding quickly, she came to a building on the outskirts. The shop's exterior was weathered, beaten, showing its age. An intense heat came from inside and the sound of roaring flames in the smithy's furnace was deafening. She stopped outside, peering into the darkness indoors.
The light from the fire illuminated little of the shop's interior and cast everything into sharp, flickering relief. A worker's movement around the flames was accentuated, but the working boy's features were obscured by his sweat drenched hair. He was bent over a hot, glowing blade, oblivious to his watcher, beating it into shape with a heavy, iron mallet. Sparks flew, some landing on his thick, oiled apron before they faded.
Lyllan stepped in to the doorway, taking another apron off the hook as she did so, and walked over to the boy, tying the straps to fit as she walked. She stood in front of his anvil, waiting for him to notice her presence.
He looked up, and jumped, his mallet swinging precariously in his hand. he laid the tool and blade down and smiled at the intruder.
"Lyllan," he said, playfully scolding her, "you should know better than to disturb an artist while he's working, it's bad luck."
She smiled crookedly, "Well, Brynden, maybe you should have your master install a bell, so there would be no need to create that bad luck."
Brynden shook his head, "Why are you here?"
Her eyes glinted, "Only to see my friend work."
"I know that look," he said suspiciously, "what's going on?"
Lyllan laughed, a young joyous laugh, and shook her head, "I'm not telling, it's a surprise."
He groaned, but started walking towards the door, untying his apron on the way, "I've come to hate it when you say that."
"Don't, or you won't enjoy it."
They hung their heavy aprons on the appropriate hooks and walked out into the brightening sun. The streets were starting to come alive as the early workers prepared for the new day. The smells of cooking were beginning to waft on the soft breezes, and the sounds of households waking were beginning to clammer in the lanes. The pair walked among the shops, Lyllan in the lead, with Brynden following. He ignored the people around them and gazed upon the proud, funny girl in front of him, her dark hair and hips swinging in time with her steps, his eyes smiled at the sight.
They continued walking until they came out on the other side of the village, and Brynden had to watch his step when Lyllan stopped suddenly on the edge of the surrounding forest. She smiled back at him.
"We're here."
I like what you've done here...it was enjoyable, but I agree with what the others said. I didnt' read the original, but I imagine it's better now.
I agree that it's a little short...how many pages on a regular Word program? Maybe combine a couple of chapters to make it longer. You can make a pause in the story by putting stars there or changing viewpoints, without actually ending the chapter.
Anyway, good story, though! Have you done any more, yet, I wonder?
~ 
Peh, you're only 14? I'm jealous 
Over all, you have a great start, but there are few things that I would like to point out.
Tamora wrote:The thatched rooves
the morning's dew, and the houses' windows were still misty from the occupants' breath.
A bright young girl, no more then 14 years old, strolled leisurely along the lanes. Her raven-hair bounced across her back while the wind blew a few strands into her face, and her blue eyes danced under her long lashes.
Me Four Years Ago wrote:Ayana crossed her arms. She was about of average height and build, with a light brown complexion and black hair, pulled back into a prim braid. Her eyes were a bright violet, matching the silk dress she was wearing. Unlike many other females of noble status, Ayana wore very little jewelry, bearing no more than a pair of silver hoop earrings.
Lyllan was traditionally ... Lyllan enjoyed
The shop's exterior was weathered, beaten, showing it's age.
The light from the fire illuminated little of the shop's interior and cast everything into sharp, flickering relief.
He was bent over a hot, glowing blade, oblivious to his watcher, beating it into shape with a heavy, iron mallet. Sparks flew, some landing on his thick, oiled apron before they faded.
The smells of cooking were beginning to waft on the soft breezes, and the sounds of households waking were beginning to clammer in the lanes.
gazed apon the girl in front of him, her dark hair and hips swinging in time with her steps, his eyes smiled at the sight.
I've made the changes that you have suggested. Thanks guys!
Yes, Elelel, Brynden likes Lyllan, now calm down! and there's a reason why I used that description of Lyllan.
I'm sorry, but it'll be a while before the next bit comes on, I no longer have access at school, but I'm trying to sort that out. I ccan PM you if you want to know the next bit.
Hey! 'Tis I! I found some time! Homework is just the worst, isn't it? But anyway, on to business.
The early-day sun shone weakly down into the streets of the small village, casting shadows across the grass beside the paths
Her raven-hair bounced across her back while the wind blew a few strands into her face, and her blue eyes danced under her long lashes.
An intense heat came from inside and the sound of roaring flames in the smithy's furnace was deafening.
The smells of cooking were beginning to waft on the soft breezes, and the sounds of households waking were beginning to clammer in the lanes.
He was bent over a molten blade,
Brynden following, ignoring the people around them and gazing apon the girl in front of him, her dark hair and hips swinging in time with her steps, his eyes smiled at the sight.
Your description was nice but work on characterization a touch. Also, a few specific suggestions -
Lyllan was traditionally the first one walking around and the [s]villages[/s] villagers had become accustomed to the sound of her feet outside their windows at the earliest possible hour.
"you should know better [s]then[/s] than to disturb an artist while he's working, it's bad luck."
They hung [s]they're[/s] their heavy aprons on the appropriate hooks and walked out into the brightening sun. [Also, why does Lyllan take an apron when she isn't planning on helping him at the forge?]
in the lanes. [s]the[/s] The pair walked among the shops, Lyllan in the lead, with Brynden following, ignoring the people around them and gazing [s]apon[/s] upon the girl in front of him, her dark hair and hips swinging in time with her steps, his eyes smiled at the sight. [Also, this sentence is rather long. I'd put a period after 'following' because that's when you switch point of view from 'we' to 'he' - '...with Brynden following. He wound through the streets after her, ignoring the people around them and gazing upon...']
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Other than that, I liked it and look forward to reading the next part.
It was good. Mabye a little short but nevertheless. I can't tell whats going on much. Although it was very descriptive I think you should post longer ones. I like the main character but I would describe her surroundings a little more. Thats it.
~Pol
Lyllan stepped in to the doorway, taking another apron of (off) the hook as she did so, and walked over to the boy, tying the straps to fit as she walked. She stood in front of his anvil, waiting for him to notice his (her) presence.
"Lyllan," he said, playfully scolding her, "you should know better then to disturb an artist[s]e[/s] while he's working, it's bad luck."
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