It was not the first day...

hey, guys, remember that book me and my friend were going to write?

We got the first few chapters.

here it is.


It was not the first day that Fen had seen death.
She had men on both sides of her, as she walked down the hallway. She glanced behind; Kloven, his broad shoulders, his brown eyes, and his pale skin as cold as ice. He seemed to be crying, or was it just the gauge in his mouth? She glanced to her right, Fuzzle, his black hair, his green eyes, and his tall, slim frame. She noticed how he seemed to be tense, his hand on his dagger, ready for any sudden movement. The guards on her sides seemed to notice the disturbance, and put hands on their hilts. She imagined, again, what it was like to have affection for those two, and to be able to dismiss one with the ease of a finger snap. Goosebumps ran down her arms, and she shook the thought out of her head. She felt her ankle-long cape drag a bit on the floor. She sped up a bit to keep from tripping.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked over the warm hand. “Listen... Fen," Fuzzle said, “Just remember Miig, and this will all seem right.” She remembered. Oh, did she remember. She began to feel a rock in her throat, going down farther. She tried coughing, but only lodged it lower. She tried to think of a happy place. She pictured a cabin, in the woods, where no civilization could hear of her, and deathblossoms in the front yard. Surprisingly, it seemed real enough to melt the rock, at least melt it enough to numbness.

She must’ve stopped in her tracks, in front of a door, because fuzzle’s arms were around her shoulders. She looked over them to see Kloven, facing the other way. He surely must’ve been hiding tears. She felt only now the comfort of Fuzzle’s warmth, and it made her feel secure. “Secure,” She thought to herself, sounding absurd to her own ears. “Remember, you’re a rogue,” She reminded herself,” You’re never secure.”

She whispered to Fuzzle to let her go, and, with a sigh, he dropped his arms. She turned around on her heels, and faced the other way with a feeling of must. She looked at the heading above the door, “Asylum Ward”, as if it were her own death. She looked back at Kloven, with a feeling of surrender, as she turned her head back, pushing the doors open, and smelling the familiar stench of sweat, blood, and bodily fluids, She wished that she had never come.
After all, it wasn’t the first day she’d seen death.


Ok, I agree, not much yet, but, we're working on it. so, heheh...