Question: Would you like me to post what I've written on a novel-in-progress called Lost?

Set on Thaizi, a fairly pastoral, gentle world, Lost features a young Welphie femme named Ashainmi in her quest to find her ambassador parent, who is mysteriously missing after a visit to the serpentine Kiforn. In her relentless search for Jayjaajai, she meets up with Niang, a Ské Kiforn male, who joins her reluctantly when she guilts him into it, seeing as Jayjaajai is a Kiforn ambassador. However, once the two find what they've been looking for, nothing will ever be the same. This novel is quite good, in my opinion, and about 26k; the characters are engaging and likeable, the plot is excellent (compared to my other plots ^^;;), and the world and species are just simple enough to be totally understandable while still deep enough to keep you thoroughly immersed in the culture and imagery.

tageera, poetrywolf, and gileonnen are the only ones who read Lost before, so I was wondering if any of my other fans minions readers would like to read it. 'Cause I cater to your whims. =D

In other news, I've decided that I need to post a few of my Atumi-centric shidbits on here so y'all can get to know mri'miri-otoni. This is the first of three.

Title-- The Encounter
Rating and Warnings-- PG-13 for violence and cruelty.
Species and Characters-- Species = Korat. Chars are, of course, black male Atumi in his youth, a younger but still wicked black male Wureshi, and a few other special cameos.
Summary and Notes-- Atumi, now about fifty-five years old, has spent the vast majority of his life training to become stronger and one day kill Wureshi. This... is why. [Note: pelash = minutes, and kayl = understanding.] This is also an older shidbit, not quite as lush and rich as my typical writing, so please forgive that. Read for the story, not the writing style.


A young Korat stalked through the summer-cool northern forest silently. He was a black, this five-year-old, newly adult and fresh on his own, having been removed from his pack for his tendencies towards practical joking. His exceptionally keen senses often gave him the edge when other packmates wanted revenge, so at long last, having suffered the male's pranks for two years, the pack leader banished him. However, he went gladly and with no hard feelings (for the most part), and with his parents' blessings. With soft-grey blade, blue-black claws, and gorgeous teal eyes, the handsome black had struck out with high hopes of starting his own pack. However, despite being Of Ana's Line, the black knew that he did not have the leadership qualities needed to sustain a healthy pack. Perhaps a hunting group, he mused as he strolled through the sparse forest, would be better suited to my tastes.

The scent of another male Korat brought his head up sharply, and Atumi looked ahead and to his right, ears perked amiably. A father out with -sniff- three half-grown cubs. The black chuckled to himself and, with a flick of his sharp blade, changed direction to greet them. He poked his muzzle through the brush and entered the small clearing, head-bowing to the larger, older black father. Glittering white eyes came to meet bright teal ones, and for a moment, Atumi wondered at this male. But he only had a moment for thought as one cub turned and growled in a falsetto voice at a Chapin mother and her colt, grazing nearby. The slender, hooved Athian raised her muzzle and glanced over, but ignored the young Korat good-naturedly. The colt bucked playfully, but with a whisk of his mother's tail 'cross his snout, resumed munching obediently.

The strange black seemed to vanish for a moment, and to Atumi's startled eyes appeared within tail-reach of the mother-son pair. One strike of that lightning-fast black tailblade and the gentle herbivore's head was toppling to the grass, thick red blood spurting over the terrified colt. Atumi moved as quickly as he could, as it was obvious the other Korat was lining the young Athian up in his sights, and before the killer could strike again, a velvet grey blade had scored a thin, warning gash in a muscular ebon shoulder. A blow to his head sent the younger black staggering, though it was too fast to be seen or dodged. Baring his teeth, he wedged his lithe body between stunned colt and ruthless black, claws extended and muscles tensed.

"You idiot." The tone was filled with scorn and utter disgust, and in itself nearly made the young black cringe--but Atumi had never been one, even as a cub, to back down from a challenge, nor to let younglings be harmed. Teal eyes locked with white, and Atumi had a terrifying sensation of defending the colt against a raging monster. Nonetheless, he flattened his ears and mustered a growl, "Who are you? They didn't do anything. They're herbivores!"

The larger black chuckled cruelly, and flicked his blade so that droplets of hot blood spattered across Atumi's chest. "My name is Wureshi, you impudent scum, and were you to live much longer, I would tell you to remember it. As it is..." Another laugh, but this one was cut short as Atumi's blade launched and scored a deep gash in the male's shoulder. The cocky young Korat grinned, "Well then, Wureshi, I wish you kayl... you'll need it once you lay bleeding, wondering what hit you." After all, Atumi had been the best fighter in his pack, nearly surpassing even the full adult 'leader. Why should he be worried? Sure, this stranger was fast, but the black was up to the challenge.

Wureshi's pupils dilated at the younger's insolence, and like a tornado he struck, his black blade ripping through furled throat. Atumi staggered in shock, but rage boiled his blood and added speed to his return attack; he scored one more tail-strike across the larger black's chest.

It was the last blood he'd draw.

Wureshi blocked the next strike and then, as Atumi lunged with the intent to draw upon teeth and claws as well as tail, fended him off easily with blade alone. The younger black was incapable of breaking through the killer's defenses, and time and time again, light brushes with that ebon blade left deep, crippling wounds. Struggling now to even draw breath through a ruined throat, Atumi spat his own blood in his opponent's face. Wureshi snarled and raised his tail to deliver the final blow--but he stopped, a cruel grin curling his lips.

"Live on, if you can heal yourself with such wounds. Remember your humiliation." A vicious laugh, and the ebon blade lightly slapped both sides of Atumi's muzzle, further staining his black fur with his own blood. The teal-eyed Korat stared in disbelief as the older black collected his jeering cubs and left. Wureshi doubted that the arrogant male would live past ten pelash, and even if he could, regular healing would still leave him mute and lame, and completely without the use of his tail. In fact, the blade was shattered and seeping blood, as were his longclaws and teeth. Atumi's jaws were broken, joints wrenched, several of the bones in his legs shattered, his neck sprained, and tail severed to the bone at the base.

The young male let himself fall limp as blood pooled around his shattered body, staining his once-gorgeous black pelt. Stunned eyes ignored the pain, dwelling instead upon the incredible level of fighting skills that Wureshi had attained, though he looked to be no more than thirty. Feeling the lack of oxygen and loss of blood draw a haze over his mind and eyes, Atumi finally struggled to heal, stopping most of the spewing blood; but in all his fights, he had never truly mastered the art of healing without scars, so the black was forced to patch up his hide as best he could.

But it was too late; weakness enveloped his mind, his beautifully keen mind, and shut down his systems, one by one. As his vision blurred, a strangely watery form seemed to hover before him, a black female of stunning beauty and perfect form, vivid cerulean eyes and a silver tailblade of purely artistic shape. A soft bluish aura enveloped her, and where pressed against her glossy black pelt it almost seemed like gusting flames. Atumi struggled to cope with such an odd vision when a tan female, white-bladed, green-eyed, and equally as hazy, joined the black apparition. The two seemed to converse and the young male struggled to listen, but his ears were tattered and his skull still rang with the beating he had taken. Then, a soft, gentle voice filled his mind.

Rejehn ohvaira eyshehn kalahn nubrûn oyah.

The black, though he knew many tongues, did not recognize this one, and in the haze of pain and impending death that shrouded him, he could do no more than latch onto the reassuring, maternal tone in which it was spoken. Surely t'was the black who said such cryptic yet loving words. Then, the tan female reached out her paw and rested it on Atumi's cracked skull. Her aura was not flame-like, but palely golden in hue and very windy. It was all the male could do to struggle to keep consciousness as his own; for he knew that once he lost it, he would not see the land of the living again.

Then, a gorgeous light suffused him, golden and blue in mixture, creating a teal hue of such purity that it was almost painful. The light filled him and expanded beyond him, and as Atumi fought the blackness threatening to overcome him, a ray of cerulean light struck it, and forced it to scatter like the shadows at dawn. The pain dimmed... dulled... and vanished as though it had been sucked right from his tattered form. The black felt his heart pumping vigorously, his lungs breathing deeply and easily, and his muscles stitch... bones knit... claws and blade heal... without a single scar.

Yet the haze remained over his vision as he tried to look up at the two ghostly Korats who stood so near. The black female lowered her muzzle and gently touched noses, and a thrill of electricity shot down Atumi's spine and seemed to embed itself permanently in a coil within his stomach. The slim tan seemed to distance herself and then disappear into the woods, or perhaps into thin air--Atumi's teal orbs were busy gazing into gorgeous cerulean eyes. A moment of shared warmth, a comforting paw upon his head...

And she was gone.

The blackness came again as the light faded, and for once, Atumi surrendered himself to it. For was he himself not of night's hue, and thus immune to its poisons and tricks?

Sapphire eyes met emerald ones as the two females left the unconscious male. The tan, slim and dainty yet still strong-willed, looked curiously at her sister. The black-furred femme turned her muzzle to gaze ahead, a strange smile curving her lips. Thank you, Kaili. I feel promise in him. I would not have it be dashed away so recklessly. The tan nodded, and gracefully stepped over a gnarled root. Ana, mri'sou... something must be done about Wureshi. He is gaining entirely too much power. The healer glanced sidelong at the black, who nodded her silent agreement. My dear sister... I believe we just have. Kaili blinked, startled, and cast a speculative glance over her shoulder.

Perhaps... perhaps you're right.

Atumi awoke a day later, to find himself totally healed, without even a single scar to mark his experience. Or so he thought, until while slaking his thirst he happened to notice a tiny star-shaped mark on his forehead... so faint as to escape all but the closest inspection...

And he knew.

Wide-eyed, the young black grappled with the realization that it was his ancestress who came to him, who saved him, and who left her mark on his pelt to remind him. Then, gazing fearlessly now into the water, Atumi swore to uphold the trust she had placed in him, to honor her, and to develop the power she had given him. To become better, until one day, he could kill Wureshi himself.

Atumi grinned fiercely at his reflection.