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The eleven-year-old girl yawned, freckles dancing across her nose as she scrunched up her face. “Are we almost there?” Her parents stopped walking, and her mother turned and smiled. “Aye, we’ll be at our house soon, dearest,” The little girl smiled and continued walking, red hair bouncing on her shoulders. Suddenly, she stopped, her body spinning around. “Mam! Da! Wha’ on earth is that?” Her parents froze, turning and looking around. “Wha’ is wha’?” “Edward…” Her parents stopped when they saw what the little girl was pointing at. It was a boy; he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than their own daughter, but he stood by himself about twenty feet away, near the tree line in Grassiville. His honey-brown hair was matted to his face, he looked ragged and gaunt, and his brown eyes stared at the family wildly. There was something distinctly off-putting about the boy, but none of the three could quite put their finger on it. With no restraining hand from her parents, the little girl took off running towards the boy. “Stop…!” Her father cried out, but his voice fell on the deaf ears of his daughter as she went to examine the boy. Her parents dropped their luggage and gave chase.
Soon, the girl’s legs had carried her over to the boy, who seemed to have shrunk in on himself at her coming, eyes warily glancing at her. “Who are ye?” she asked sweetly. He made no motion to answer and she frowned slightly, before glaring at him when a silence of more than ten seconds passed. “Fine! Be tha’ way and don’t answer me, ye stupid little—” “Rhoswen Finola! Ye watch ye’re manners, ye wee cailín!” The little girl stared at the ground bashfully, an angry blush spreading over her face as her mother grabbed her arm and jerked her away from the boy to reprimand her. “Sorry Mam…” Rhoswen’s father had turned to ask the boy who he was, or where he was going, but all he caught was his retreating outline as the boy ran into the trees. Standing, Edward ó Súilleabháin ran a hand through his short-cropped red hair and just hoped that nothing happened to the child. “Let’s get going,” he said, turning back to his wife and daughter. “We should go and get settled in our new home, yeah?” Rhoswen looked up excitedly, nodding, and her mother laughed slightly, leading them all back over to their bags. They picked them up from where they’d dropped them and continued walking towards their new home. The little girl had to dare a glance backward and noticed the same head of honey-brown hair between the trunks of two trees, turning slightly to follow the movements of her family. She “humph”ed under her breath and continued walking behind her mother and father.
- by dinoRAWRSyou |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/20/2009 |
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- Title: The Best of Friends pt. 1
- Artist: dinoRAWRSyou
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Description:
pts. 2 and 3 to follow shortly
a short story based on my oc rho, and an oc belonging to coffii junkii named topher. rho is a shapeshifter, and topher is a werewolf. they’re best friends now; this is a flashback to how they met.
rho belongs to dinoRAWRSyou
topher belongs to coffii junkii
solinus belongs to dropofmoonshine
cal and helena belong to salado bento
show some love? :3
go check out the stories by "always on my morningside" for more grassiville goodness - Date: 05/20/2009
- Tags: best friends
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Yan Qi - 08/16/2009
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Very good! 5/5
Btw what country are they supposed to be in? - Report As Spam
- Always On My Morningside - 05/20/2009
- Ooohhh I likes. ^.^ It is very good. And thank you for the plug!
- Report As Spam