RE: SeaWyrm's Talon Exercises
11-18-2012, 12:32 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-18-2012, 12:32 AM by SeaWyrm.)
"Grab ahold of something!"
I nodded and reached up to hook a strap. There was a squeal of brakes, and the subway slid to a stop.
"You okay?" asked Wenda.
I nodded and untangled my hook from the strap, then frowned.
"I'm not fragile, you know," I said, sticking my tongue out at her.
She reached down to pat me on the head. "Sometimes I forget how brave you are, Kevin," she said, smiling.
I scowled. I hate being patronized.
"Wenda, where are we going?" I asked, letting her take my hook in her hand to lead me out into the station.
"Just some errands. If you're a good boy, you'll get a sucker."
I scowled again. More patronizing, and no proper answer. She shuffled her wings slightly - they were slowly becoming visible, so we must have been entering the west part of town - and led me up the steps without looking at me. Her gray woolen overcoat had slits for the wings, which were themselves a dirty gray, light pigeon wings.
Around us, there were people with blue ears, pointed skin, tails, all wrapped in scarves and earmuffs, and special sorts of gloves. One man walked past with a horse's body, which was draped with a thick, quilted blanket held down by straps. They were going about their business through the falling snow, carrying bags or baskets or backpacks.
I'd been here before, a couple of times. None of it was interesting - just clothing stores. I didn't really want to have anything to do with that.
But I was in luck. Wenda had forgotten something about my missing hand, or maybe had never noticed. It came back when I went to the west part of town, just like her wings did. Not as a flesh hand - it was a shimmering blue ghost of a hand. But it was there. So it was easy to undo the straps holding the hook in place and let her carry it away to the clothing stores while I darted away into the crowds in search of something more exciting.
I was long gone by the time she caught on.
I found my way to a place I'd never been before, lured by flashing lights and the smell of fried dough. It was an arcade.
---15 Mins---
"blue ears, pointed skin" - this is what happens when I'm busy thinking ahead rather than paying attention to what I'm writing. I noticed after I'd written "blue ears", and since it's against the rules to go back and edit, I decided to go ahead and complete the reversal. I don't know what pointed skin is, but it does sound interesting. As for the blue ears, I guess not everyone had earmuffs.
I nodded and reached up to hook a strap. There was a squeal of brakes, and the subway slid to a stop.
"You okay?" asked Wenda.
I nodded and untangled my hook from the strap, then frowned.
"I'm not fragile, you know," I said, sticking my tongue out at her.
She reached down to pat me on the head. "Sometimes I forget how brave you are, Kevin," she said, smiling.
I scowled. I hate being patronized.
"Wenda, where are we going?" I asked, letting her take my hook in her hand to lead me out into the station.
"Just some errands. If you're a good boy, you'll get a sucker."
I scowled again. More patronizing, and no proper answer. She shuffled her wings slightly - they were slowly becoming visible, so we must have been entering the west part of town - and led me up the steps without looking at me. Her gray woolen overcoat had slits for the wings, which were themselves a dirty gray, light pigeon wings.
Around us, there were people with blue ears, pointed skin, tails, all wrapped in scarves and earmuffs, and special sorts of gloves. One man walked past with a horse's body, which was draped with a thick, quilted blanket held down by straps. They were going about their business through the falling snow, carrying bags or baskets or backpacks.
I'd been here before, a couple of times. None of it was interesting - just clothing stores. I didn't really want to have anything to do with that.
But I was in luck. Wenda had forgotten something about my missing hand, or maybe had never noticed. It came back when I went to the west part of town, just like her wings did. Not as a flesh hand - it was a shimmering blue ghost of a hand. But it was there. So it was easy to undo the straps holding the hook in place and let her carry it away to the clothing stores while I darted away into the crowds in search of something more exciting.
I was long gone by the time she caught on.
I found my way to a place I'd never been before, lured by flashing lights and the smell of fried dough. It was an arcade.
---15 Mins---
"blue ears, pointed skin" - this is what happens when I'm busy thinking ahead rather than paying attention to what I'm writing. I noticed after I'd written "blue ears", and since it's against the rules to go back and edit, I decided to go ahead and complete the reversal. I don't know what pointed skin is, but it does sound interesting. As for the blue ears, I guess not everyone had earmuffs.