Wings

Feline Robin Grevyo is human... for the first fifteen years of her life, that is. She is captured, so to speak, by Griffin, a vegetarian lion, and taught the ways of Multi-beings and learns to avoid the dangerous Non-beings. It's a constant battle for life and death, and for many of Feline's new companions, they have to take the latter choice.


 

I'm walking home from school.   Yeah, this is a pretty boring way to start off.  Where's the action? you say, where's the hook?  The truth is, I can't throw you a hook.

So bear with me.  I'm starting from the day before.

As I was saying, I walk home from school.  I just moved into this small town.   It's nothing but a school, a grocery, and houses.  There's a lake, too.  But at this time of year, when the leaves on the trees have fallen, no one cares to go there anymore.  The woods are dead.  The water is cold.  The sky is always grey, waiting impatiently for fall to pass and winter to take over.

I don't like my little town.  It's worthless.  There are about five-hundred people, most of which are older than dirt.  I dislike this place very much.  I want out.

But this place is so nice! mom told me, It's small, there's no crime, and everyone is so friendly.

I honestly down care what she thinks.   I hate it here.

When I get home I head straight to my room upstairs.   I'm not social.  Mom thinks I need therapy or something, but that's just who I've become.  We move about once every year and a half, so it's hard to create long-term friendships.  So in the last few years, I just don't bother.  So now, I'm miserable.  Alone. Quiet.  Burning on the inside.

Oh well.

I sit at my desk, gazing out the window.  All I see are the bare branches of the trees reaching into the gray sky.  But it gives me an idea.

I pull out a paper and begin to draw.  I start with a rough sketch, a trotting horse.  Then the trees come in, pulling at her tail and mane.  I fill in the mare's details, turning her graceful run into a terrified flight.  Her eyes become alive, and I can feel her fear.  The page is too small to add in her source of fear behind her, so I detail in the grey trees and the mare's coat.   Somehow her white hide becomes striped with black, and she almost disappears into the background.

I glance back outside.  It's getting dark already.  I must have spent some time drawing the mare.

I want more inspiration.  I  pull on my boots and coat, and head back outside.  I tell my mom I'm going for a walk, then head into the trees.

The End

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