Young Writers Society

The grass offered little resistance as it was torn away from its peaceful position, only to enter the innocent mouth of a light brown-fleeced lamb. Said lamb carefully chewed its food, before a tiny frown appeared on its pitch black face.

Mm. Should be more crunchy. With that thought in mind, the little lamb glanced over his shoulder, finding even that act to be difficult, given that the fleece that covered his back was almost twice bigger than his tiny body, and that a large, golden padlock of a necklace surrounded his neck. Still, he managed to gaze back and noticed that his flock wasn’t far away: they were, like him, enjoying the light breeze that passed through the grassy green plains that was their resting territory.

Like he was taught to do, the little lamb raised his tail: it was as long as his body, and covered in dense fur with distinctive brown and white stripes – different for every individual, or so he had been told – and its tip shaped like a furry dagger. the lamb’s padlock began to shine brightly around the keyhole area, and a sudden pulse of light travelled from the necklace to the dagger tip of the lamb’s tail, with the stripes glowing golden in the process. The light was released in the form of a quick ray for the entire flock to see.

Twink: Here.

The lamb released another series of light rays.

Twink: Move. Near. Grass.

Somewhere within the flock, a series of rays answered him. The little lamb easily recognized them as an adult’s rays.

Twynk?

Twynk chuckled. It was his mother: and as usual, she didn’t miss a single moment to correct the shape of the rays that spelled his name. Patient as always, Twynk modified his rays.

Twynk. Move. Near, near. Grass.

Not too far. the mother immediately replied. Not too far.

Not too far. Twynk promised. Crunchy grass. Back soon. not even waiting for the last warning that he knew his mother would give him, Twynk walked down the small hill his flock was currently resting on, and reached the tiny pond he had discovered while looking at the landscape a few days ago. It was surrounded by two trees, which gave Twynk a nice shadow to stay under while he ate. Upon arriving, he immediately gazed down and snatched the grass beneath his feet. As he chewed, a distinctive crunchy sound echoed through his teeth, and his long tail began to whip the air above him – a sign that he was pleased.

Twynk didn’t know why exactly did he like his crunchy grass so much, but for some reason, he was the only one in the flock that would go so far to get it.

“I dunno!” he had exclaimed to his mother, one day. “It’s, um… It’s… My teeth crush things. It's a great noise. I like when my teeth crush things.”

His mother had giggled, telling him that, sometimes, he looked like he was too fond of something that she called “pandemonium.” He hadn’t dared to question what she meant at the time, because she was used to his eccentricities, just like he was used to her fancy words and meanings, but now that he thought about it again, he should ask her what she meant, after he came back. Maybe he could learn to spell the world in light rays, too.

A cackle suddenly resounded around Twynk’s position. He raised his head, frowning as he realized that a second cackle joined the first one. Not only did they seem to get closer, they were continuous, one high-pitched, the other, low, but ending with a growl before resuming. Twynk turned back, only to notice a curious sight: two dog-like beings strolled his way, and they seemed to be the origin of the cackle. They were slightly bigger than he was, appearing as entirely brown spots trotting on the grass. Tiny digging claws appeared on their feet, though their most recognizing features were their triangular ears on each side of their face, and the small tuft of silver fur shaped like a flame above their eyes. To Twynk’s surprise, a third, silent beast had appeared, about as big as the two others. Intrigued, Twynk slowly lowered his head and took another patch of crunchy grass in his mouth. The noise alerted the three beasts, who jerked their heads in his direction like a single creature. Their cackling resumed for a short while, until finally, they reached Twynk’s position, encircling him without a word.

“...Hello!” Twynk exclaimed, apparently surprising the three beasts, who jerked backwards, showing off a series of sharp fangs.

“...It can Uni-Talk too?” one of them inquired, gazing at Twynk with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “What is it?”

Twynk flashed a grin. “Hello!” he repeated. “I’m not an ‘it.’ I’m Twynk.”

“You’re a… Twink?” one of the other beasts asked.

“Ah, no! I mean, that’s how you pronounce it, but, it’s my name. Twynk. My species is… um… Locksheep, in Uni-Talk.”

“Locksheep.” One of the cubs repeated. They gazed at each other, intrigued. “Locksheep called Twynk.”

“Yeah!” Twynk approved, his tail wagging with glee. His mother would be proud. “What are your names?”

“But then… You’re prey.” one of the cubs continued, as the two others began to cackle again.

Twynk nodded happily. “Yup! And you’re predators! Um, Taeyen, right? The Cackling Wolves?”

“We’re not wolves!” one of the cubs shouted angrily. “We’re Taeyen from Arjenla!”

"Yeah, yeah! And we've seen bigger sheeps, too!" another one added pridefully.

"And the sheeps in Arjenla are black, too!" the third one barked.

“Yes, but I don’t know where that is...” Twynk replied thoughtfully. “Oh! Uh, and I’d still like your names, before we start. I like names. They're memorable.”

“I heard these Locks can call their packs, too!" the third Taeyen exclaimed. "With thunder!”

Twynk shook his head. “We call it Pulse. It's like thunder, but it's like light, too.”

“Shut it, Locksheep!”

“My name’s Twynk.”

“Should we push it in the pond?” one of the Taeyen suggested.

Twynk’s face brightened. “That sounds fun!”

“What if it calls for help?” said another.

“I, um, I’m not going to do that.”

“But we can bite its neck before that!” reasoned the third one.

Twynk frowned. “I… still don’t know your names.”

“Can we even see his neck? It must be hidden behind its fur!”

Twynk tilted his head, confused. “What should I name you, then...?”

“Let’s just eat him!”

The three Taeyen cubs finally stopped their dispute and stared at Twynk in silence. The latter smiled, lowered his head and picked up more of his crunchy grass.

“...I said: we’re gonna eat you!” one of them repeated.

Twynk munched on, thoughtful. “...Arjenlok…” he began, gazing at the cub on his left. “...Arjenfang…” he continued, looking at the one on his right. “...And Arjenbark. Mmhm! Good!” He swallowed his grass, visibly satisfied.

“What did it just do?” Arjenlok whispered to his partners.

“I gave you names! Less confusing.” Twynk revealed happily. "And I guess this is the part where you try to eat me, so...” a wide grin decorated Twynk’s face as he spread his legs, bent them slightly and let a bright light cover the keyhole of his padlock. Then, the Pulse engulfed his entire body, and his fleece turned golden along the rings of his tail. His entire fur became impressively spiky as he lifted his tail above his head: and this time, it really did look like a menacing dagger covered in an electric aura. Tiny white dots appeared on each of Twynk’s pitch black eyes, posing as eerily glowing pupils.

“Come one, come all, predators!” Twynk declared, his grin widening by the second. “Let’s see who can unmask this padlocked wolf in a sheep’s clothing!” he giggled. The tale tellers of his flock would be proud – he remembered the lines perfectly.

The three young Taeyen, however, stared with awe and confusion, cackling nervously. “Why… Why is it not running away?” Arjenfang whispered.

“Let’s… Just… EAT IT!” a frustrated Arjenbark shouted before jumping forward, fangs aimed directly at Twynk’s face. Evidently, the poor cub had little to no experience dealing with a Locksheep, because attacking its face while its Pulse was active was certainly not the wisest of decisions – a fact that Twynk made sure to confirm by simply sending a discharge of Pulse from the tip of his tail towards the rushing cub, who was pushed back, letting a painful yelp escaping its mouth. Going by the logic that a sleeping predator would certainly leave him alone, Twynk aimed his raised tail towards Arjenbark as the Taeyen attempted to rise, and fired more Pulse rays until it collapsed for good, knocked out. 

Okay, one down! Twynk thought to himself, satisfied. The two others stared at Twynk with big eyes. Then, Arjenlok began cackling again, slowly approaching Twynk. In the meantime, Arjenfang raised his front paws: a glowing silver light engulfed them, and he slammed them on the ground, creating a cloud of smoke. Twynk frowned, but turned his eyes back on Arjenlok, who was suddenly much closer than he previously was. Twynk fired another Pulse ray, but the Taeyen leaped on the side, dodging it with ease. The ground beneath Twynk’s feet trembled: Twynk ran away from the spot, just in time to avoid the surprise attack of Arjenfang. Twynk skidded on the ground and turned around, tail raised again as he frowned, seeing that Arjenfang’s front paws were still glowing. He gazed at the previously created cloud of smoke, and saw a hole in its place. 

“O-o-o-o-oh!” Twynk exclaimed with awe. “You can dig underground super fast! And then Arjenlok can just distract me and stuff while you attack me from below! That’s so cool!” Twynk jumped in place excitedly.

“...What’s it blabbing about now?” Arjenlok inquired, visibly exasperated.

“I think its happy, for some r–”

A sudden Pulse ray hit Arjenfang’s mouth, preventing it to finish his sentence. They both looked back at Twynk, who blinked, confused by the hostility. “...What? Mom says I can talk if I’m at a safe distance. “You aren't, though.”

A predatory growl was Arjenfang’s sole reply. Then, both him and Arjenlok raised their paws and hit the ground, disappearing under it. Naturally, Twynk's eyes widened as he realized the problem. His ears were good enough to allow him tracking one of them, but with both, it would be much harder. He frantically gazed around him, until his eyes met the abandoned body of the knocked out Arjenbark. “...Grasslands and gales, I got it!” Twynk exclaimed as he ran towards the body. One of the Taeyen suddenly jumped out of the ground, but Twynk successfully ducked under it – losing tufts of his golden-colored fleece in the process – before resuming his rush. Before the second one could reach him, he jumped on Arjenbark’s body and raised his long tail above him again. Then, he closed his eyes, and listened. Since he rested on top of one of the predators, they couldn’t easily attack from directly underneath him and bite his paws. So, they’d have to leap out like one of them did previously, and the moment they did, he’d have to direct his tail in the right direction and fire. 

...But if they severely wounded his tail, he wouldn’t be able to channel his Pulse properly, and he hadn’t learned to use it without his tail yet.

I know you like your noisy things, Twynki-dearie, and I know you think in your own, special way. But don't get too fond of pandemonium, okay? It may be too hard to manage - and this flock prefers order and calm.

The words of his mother somehow came back to his mind, and Twynk’s smile appeared again. My own, special way. He charged as much Pulse as he could and listened as the wind began to breathe on the battlefield. It gently rustled the crunchy grass, letting them move along with it. Then, the ground beneath it began to rumble softly, as if also accompanying the movement of the wind. The noise then grew more violent.

THERE! Heart pounding, Twynk opened his eyes just as Arjenlok came out of the ground at the same time as Arjenfang, one in front, and the other at Twynk’s back, respectively. The two Taeyen had figured that their prey had only one tail, and couldn’t possibly attack both of them at once, especially if one aimed for the head, and the other, the tail. But Twynk simply zapped Arjenlok in mid-air, then leaped away from Arjenbark’s body, letting Arjenlock continue his trajectory forward. The Taeyen slid on the grassy ground and, right before he could dig underground again, Twynk ran towards him and enrolled his tail around his arm. The surprised cub attempted to break free, but before he could do anything, Twynk channelled his Pulse at the tip of his tail, discharging the energy directly into the Taeyen’s body. 

Just one more...! Twynk turned around and hit then fallen Arjenlok with several others rays until, like Arjenbark, he fell unconscious. Sighing with relief, Twynk turned around again, and time seemed to stop as his gaze met Arjenfang’s. Twynk contemplated the wounded Taeyen: it was trembling, the Pulse’s power having affected his entire body. It likely couldn’t move anymore, but a determined light still rested in his eyes, a fiery will to battle that Twynk found beautiful. It triggered something within him, a flame, a… heat. Something that had laid dormant, but awakened every time he had fought predators – for this wasn’t his first encounter, and likely wouldn’t be his last. 

However, as usual, the exact same thing occurred. 

Twynk let out a chuckle, and it transformed into a loud, uninterrupted laughter. He was simply happy: happy that predators existed, happy to be alive, happy to battle. Twynk gazed at his defeated foe yet again, his white pupils staring silently as he grinned and uttered: “Love you.” A last Pulse ray, and Arjenfang joined the others in their slumber. Twynk looked at them one last time, before rushing back towards the hill he had left to eat his grass. They were about to leave, and Twynk hurriedly reached them, noticing that his mother, a perfect copy of himself with larger features, and softer, curlier fur – a sign that she was a female.

“Where have you been, Twynkie-Dearie?” Twynk’s mother inquired, gazing at her son with half-annoyed, half-worried eyes.

Of course, Twynk’s fur had already turned back to its light brown color, but still look spikier than his mother's. “I met friends!” Twynk exclaimed joyfully. “We rolled around the crunchy grass. They said they came from Arjenla. I didn't know there were black Locksheeps!”

“Oh, yes! There are many other flocks there, more than we can count. But still, be careful with strangers, look at your fleece, it’s all messy now!”

“Mom?” Twynk continued as they followed the flock out of the hill, to wherever their leader led them. “What’s ‘pandemonium?”

“Oh, it means wild and noisy disorder.”

“So, like chaos?”

“Yes! Like chaos. Why do you ask?”

"Well I was thinking about what you said, I wasn't sure I understood well."

"I was just warning you not to get away from the flock too far too often, and not to make too much noise when you're with us. As in, get your Pulse under control - it tends to stop doing that when you're happy."

"Oh, right! But you said I mastered it better because I gave names to my... things!"

Twynk's mother gave her son a knowing look. "You mean, your 'powers'? You've been listening too closely to the tale-tellers, lately, but it does help you focus."

Twynk thought about the way he had defeated Arjenfang. The way his Pulse had been sent directly into the Taeyen's body, paralysing him in place. "...I think I came up with one. Can I call it... Um... Pulse... Impact?"

"Come now, it lacks originality."

"...Energy Impact?"

"Hmm. Try shorter!"

"Ener Impact?"

"Now try changing a letter - whatever sounds better to you."

Twynk frowned, thoughtful. "Aner... Anar... Enel? Enel Impact!"

"Good work, Twynkie-dearie. We'll try coming up with alterations of that name later, okay? It's called 'nomenclature' - I'll explain that later. For now, let's keep following. And no running for crunchy grass for at least a week!"

"'Kay!" Twynk turned his head, gazing at the spot he had abandoned, yonder. “...Mommy?"

"Mm?"

For a split second, his fleece took its golden color again, and white pupils decorated his eyes as his lively grin shone alongside them. "...The chaos thing. I like pandemonium.” Twynk admitted joyfully.