"We need a healer. A -real- healer."

"This -is- the healer. The only one within miles."

"This mere slip of a girl? Ridiculous! I won't have my son's life rest on her--"

"Shut up, old man. Shenwen. Shenwen, awaken."

( Brown eyes flicked open... )

Title-- Prologue to Wolfrider
Rating and Warnings-- G; no warnings.
Species and Characters-- An unnamed human and his wolf.
Summary and Notes-- Just because. This may well end up being a novel, since I've been chewing on this concept for a few hours, and the world itself for years now. Also - enjoy the subtle mockery. =D I stole a little of guitarbluesman's sense of humor/witticism. <3!

( In every great story, there are always a few key players amongst the host of others... )

listen

The demons were crying in the twilight, shrieks and howls that sent small children sobbing to their mothers and made grown men shudder and clutch the hilts of their swords. As the sun sank bloodily behind the distant rolling mountains in the west, a lone rider thundered down the forest road, cloak

can you hear them?

whipping in the speed-wind. Its steed beat a brisk, frantic rhythm on the packed dirt of the narrow pathway with oddly-shaped hooves - the cloak obscured the beast's

they're getting closer

pelt. No one was along the little-used road to be passed, and so none saw the mount's fur - a beautiful, swirled mottling of silver, black, and midnight blue. The demon-horse carried its rider swiftly towards

run run run faster

the setting sun. The forest was breached and gave way to gentle plains, and herds of wild horses jerked and scattered defiantly as the rider raced past. The demon-horse never tired, arched neck drenched in sweat, sculpted equine head leveled into the wind of its own passage. What looked like a long, thick plume arched backwards from the back of its skull and coiled

they're going to catch us if you don't

like a peacock's feather, lax. The rider turned a hooded, veiled face to look over its shoulder at the swiftly-receding forest and hissed. "Faster," it urged in a guttural growl of a voice and

hurry, you know, you're our last chance to

faced front again. The smoke of a village could be seen now, staining the darkening horizon. The demon-horse ignored the cries of its kindred that erupted, snarling and screaming, from the tall grasses of the plains. It knew

make it back in time

that the jaws snapping at its ankles and fleet hooves would not touch the dark pelt. It knew, watching the world through wild jewel-like eyes, that no mortal creature could catch

hurry please hurry

a demon of such clean limb and enduring speed. With a thunder of long, sharp hooves, the beast lunged over a shadow that growled and aimed white fangs for a blued silver throat. The shadow

almost there

hissed and retreated when it missed and was rewarded with a stabbing kick as the demon-horse fled. The village was within sight now, a few inhabitants visible - tall, grey-furred beasts of men, clutching spears that

almost...

more resembled fallen logs with sharp tips than anything meant to be thrown. The rider unwound one four-fingered hand from the base of the steed's black mane and drew a curving horn from its belt, then pressed the small end to its muzzle. The sound

too close, they're right behind us and

echoed brassily across the plains, and within seconds, other horns were being blown from within the village. The smoke guttered and the half-beasts they could see disappeared from sight. The rider inhaled and began to

i can smell them, too close--

call again, but an arrow plunging into its shoulder knocked the wind from its lungs. The horn fell to the grasses as the demon-horse crossed an invisible line that defined the edge of the little village. Blood streamed down the rider's torn cloak and stained its steed's haunch, but it wheeled the beast about and

...this is the end

watched with hooded eyes as its fellows rose up from the tall grasses and sprang from the sturdy huts. The battle closed as pale, slender figures on white stags flickered into view like a mist - but only the half-beasts and the demons bled red blood. The ghosts they fought never fell.

I couldn't... stop myself. Aggressors now has a sequel. ^_^;; And, in ending this shidbit, I wonder if this will have a sequel as well. ^^;;

Title-- Healers
Rating and Warnings-- PG; some mild cursing and some implied bestiality (humanxnonhuman) and yaoi (malexmale).
Species and Characters-- Species = human, with mention of Nagas and centaurs. Characters = Crom, a grizzled coal miner, his son Mikhael, and a Naga named River's End.
Summary and Notes-- A continuation of Aggressors' plotline. The father's predictions about village men initiating conflict with centaurs and Nagas comes true, at the expense of his family.

( 'Hang on, son!' )

After all, fifteen-minute writing prompts were the source of such spiffy shidbits as Ooh, Shiny!, Run, and Replaced.

Title-- Aggressors
Rating and Warnings-- PG; no real warnings, other than a few mild cusswords.
Species and Characters-- Species = human, with mention of Nagas and centaurs. Characters = a grizzled human man and his son, sounding suspiciously like West Virginians. ^^;;
Summary and Notes-- Written to the prompt 159 in daily15--took me a snitch over 15 minutes to write 706 words. This takes place in no set world, (no not even collie_wing's Dnal, simply because she doesn't have Nagas there), and is totally random. ^^;; As for a summary? A man tells his son about the nature of men and aggression.

( 'Yer shittin' me.' )

Seeing as I just made a list of older stuff I want to post on here eventually, I'll start the run-down off with a drabble!

Title-- Involuntary Prey
Rating and Warnings-- PG; warning for mild gore.
Species and Characters-- Species are high-fantasy centaur and hellhound-esque beasties.
Summary and Notes-- It's an old drabble, no biggie. But I <3 centaurs, so I wanted to post it. However, no concrit needed; the thing's at least three years old. ~_^;;

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Galloping hooves are the first thing to be heard in the dank, dreary forest in centuries. The next thing is snarling and barking. A dark form races past molding creepers and entangling vines, ebony hooves imprinting a trail upon the damp ground. Hulking, slavering beasts chase the fleet-footed creature, their red eyes gleaming in the gloom. "Ah hell," the hooved one swears as she flattens her torso, tucks her arms in, and leaps gracefully over a six-foot log. Ebony hair whipping in the speed of her passage, the silky hair trailing down her neck and partially down her back in a full-fledged mane, the centaur darts around a tree whose girth spans a hundred meters.

One of the pursuing beasts passes its fellows and nears the fugitive's flowing tail, then leaps, wicked jaws wide. Almost easily, she kicks, one cloven hoof crushing the beast's skull and sending its burly form tumbling into the fungus-ridden foliage. Twisting her torso again, the centaur shoves her way past vines and roots that seem to reach for her, trying to entangle her well-toned limbs in their grips, trying to stop and hold her for the hunting creatures to feast upon. With a wry expression for her imagination, the black-skinned sprinter reaches an open path, obviously abandoned and just as obviously once used with great frequency.

Now with no wicked foliage to slow her down, the centaur turns her mind to a full-speed gallop, easily outdistancing the six or so beasts left. Breathing deeply, she briefly straightens her torso to untwist the deerskin draped across her upper self, tugging at the laces to rearrange it so that it doesn't hinder her breathing. Deeply blue eyes scan the path ahead, checking for possible ambush. As far as she can see, it's safe. Sweat glistening on her dark skin and her ebony fur beaded with old dew from passing through the unnamable forest, the centaur continues to flee for her life.

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Yep.

Title-- Never Alone
Rating and Warnings-- G; implied slash, implied nudity, and very light violence.
Species and Characters-- Species is (slightly modified due to lack of detailed information) Nagas; particular characters are an albino female [Nashara], her black brother [Kerig], and a rust-red male [Muyil].
Summary and Notes-- This was written to theillusionist's challenge. =D Her demands were that this story must include the following: three Nagas (one albino female and two males), at least one Naga must be in snake form at some point, a cave, a sharp inanimate object, a non-fatal physical wound, a fur blanket, a fire, and lots of slash. Aaand this is the result! (Tiff, the slash is more implied and budding than really in-your-face. If you'd like me to try again with a different shidbit, I will. =D)

( 'What happened to the song?' )

Title-- Soul Shards
Rating and Warnings-- G; no warnings.
Species and Characters-- Human and dragon--characters are two old RPG chars of mine. However, telling you names and stuff would spoil the story. *G*
Summary and Notes-- Written for daily15's 83rd prompt and 15minuteficlets's 61st prompt. Took me 15ish minutes for 533 words. I wrote this to try to get a feel for a subculture within a "typical" fantasy world that I'm developing (actually, I'm taking pieces of past RPGs that I've run and stories that I've written and pasting them all together to make one place :D). So, excuse any awkwardness... it doesn't help that I got reeeeeeally light-headed (and felt like I was leaning forward at a 45 degree angle) about halfway through. >,<;;

( Theirs is a song of blood and fire and death--of freedom and sky and life... )