Disruption

Disruption

Wake up.

What time is it?

You’re going to be late.

Keep safe.

If you hurry, you’ll have enough time.

Walking.

What time is it?

Could you spare some change?

Well, that’s new.

But you don’t have time.

Hello there.

What time is it?

We’re going to be late.

Come and see something new.

We have enough time.

That’s new.

But we don’t have time.

Get out of there!

Its safe.

I promise.

What time is it?

When did this come up?

I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

Don’t go.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Two Sevenlings about the Hill

Sevenlings

She faced the hill as Morning Sun appeared

She glanced across the field spread so wide

She slowly walked across the grass so green

As Afternoon Sun peaked above the hill

She moved from walking to gentle jogging

And soon began running up the hill so steep

She reached the top before the Sun had set.

Evening Sun crept up behind her, rising fast.

She looked upon the world beneath the hill.

And gazed above her at the first few stars.

She sees the darkness fall across the land

She feels cold wind blowing through her hair.

She hears the distant howling of the wolves

Before the Moon arose, she descended.

Never Venture Out Alone

Hello readers

I will now post the majority of work I came up during my second year of Uni, I am also working on an update to the Tale of Animalia, and...lets just say, it might be an exciting one.

One thing they always told me: don’t go out alone and never go down to the river.

Restricted territory. They called it the eye of danger. They called it the point of no return .

But I still went down there. It was late at night and I was alone. I just needed some alone time without the group jumping down my throat all the time. I was just sick of it. I wish they’d just shut up about me not pulling my weight. Why were they the boss of me? How do they know about my life? If I wanted to go down to the clearing and take a piss, it should be fine.

I relished the open space, the freedom. For once, I had a little breathing space that wouldn’t be disturbed. No yelping or screaming going on in my ears. I wondered someday if they’ll just accept that I’m not a little baby anymore and I can do these things myself. I wished I could prove to them all that I was strong.

My thoughts were distracted by a sound behind me.

I saw it in the distance as it rapidly came towards me. It was just like the legends say, sharp knives all over. A silhouetted shape in the moonlight - It was the Claw.

One thing they always told me: The Claw feels no remorse, no humanity and if you see it, run and hide…if you can.

I had never ran as fast as I did then. It took its time, it always did. Hovering over its target until they got tired and it closed in on them; all cries for help are faded out by the thousand knives digging into their throat.

It was a good thing they always told me that I was lucky and was gifted with my speed

I was running down a long stretch approaching a clearing. Uncharted territory. Ahead of me were some more of the natives. I knew these beasts; our kind largely view them as harmless, but they are larger and much faster than us, they stick to herds and just the sight of surprise would set them on stampede that would crush anything in their way. The sight of the Claw would send them into frenzy.

The Claw shrieked behind me and as I approached the clearing, the natives were set off.

As I drastically dodged the long, deadly legs of the herd. I noticed some natives from the heights above caught up in the flurry. They were just as much at risk from The Claw as I was; maybe I could team up with them?

I ran up next to a long tailed native, I’d always liked them despite how elusive they were and thought of us as quite similar despite my inability to reach the heights. It was as if we were united for that moment…until it ran up into the green heights above, hiding within the bush and leaving me alone.

One thing they always told me: The other natives are not our kind, they possess things we don’t; distance is suggested.

I realised the herd around me had dispersed and I was running down another long stretch. The Claw was still behind me. As I felt myself start to pant, I knew that it’s time to strike would be near.

I spotted something up ahead, it was another clearing, but I knew this one. Our water hole! Somehow, I was  closer to home than I thought.

But another thing they had always told me: Always stay on one side of the river

I remembered the day I first encountered the water, the day that game of tag got out of hand. I had chased Scat into the water, and I kept going until it got too deep. By that time, it was too late for Scat. I still remember his gurgling cries for help, they stick into my head to this day.

One thing they always told me after that: We were not meant to swim, so don’t try it. Leave it to the water natives.

I dived into the bitter, freezing water. I had always observed how those water natives moved their tails deftly from side to side to move. If only my tail was as big as there’s was – The bite of the water went right through me, slowing me down. I was soon gurgling hopelessly as I started to sink.

Everything had gone to plan; I could feel The Claw starting to move in, to dive in on me. The last thing I would feel is the excruciating combination of the bitter cold and the knives digging into my neck.

Unless I could get to that patch of lilies ahead and then make it on to land!  Resisting the bitter waters, I thrashed my paws in the water as much as I could until I came straight into one. On top of the lily was another water native. I always found this one to be strange: it had small, green, huge bulging eyes and seemed to sit on these large pebbles occasionally shooting out his immensely long tongue to catch those irritating buzzing dots.

I had awoken it, its eyes struck open quickly. Too late. The killer struck, diving down, knifed feet drawn.

And without warning, it swept right past me; my sight was blurred as I was plunged into the freezing depths below. When I emerged, I saw the killer gliding above me, holding in its clutch the hapless struggling green native.

It was then I remembered two things they always told me: I had a knack for getting myself out of trouble.

I could feel myself starting to sink so I quickly thrashed through the lily pads until it was shallow enough to just crawl. As I stepped out of the water, I noticed a native staring at me below. The main water natives were wide-eyed, shy, frisky creatures. This one stared at me with that plain look of indifference like it always did.

The full reality of what just happened just hit me. I had outrun the Claw! I suppose I felt some sympathy for the poor native sacrificed but they always told me that the Circle of Life was harsh. It was only these strange mute creatures that would remember this for years to come. I wondered just what it felt in that small head. It obviously couldn’t stay long as it instantly darted away, for no particular reason that I could see.

I wish they could’ve all seen this, they’d never believe me, and they’ll make up some crap about how I’m being ‘arrogant’ & ‘delusional’ again. I hated that they always told me I was so self-absorbed and unaware to danger. I think that showed that I could make it on my own.

Never mind. I know I’d always remember it, and they’ll never take that away.

I set off through the long stretch back to the familiar clearing. What was going through my mind at that time 

was blurry but I seemed to be pondering that one thing that they had always told me that I had forgotten; I guessed it wasn’t that important.

I noticed a rustling in the hedges. I turned round, stopped for a second. Too long. A flash of red, some gnarling teeth, thrusted off the ground, blacking out…That night, I was food to the cubs of our greatest predator…

We even knew it by its first name: Fox.

And before my backbone was cracked by that set of knives, I remembered what that one thing I forgot was. One thing that they always told me, and every rabbit that would ever live: A rabbit is never safe.