Drabble Challenge: Day 8

    Well, I only have an hour until midnight. And even though the word count was looking really daunting half an hour ago, I went eighty words over. Surprise, surprise.

    I returned to Vena, though. At last. Didn't get to use the prompt in the way I though I might, but I think it worked out fairly well. This drabble does continue off of Day 4 - snowflake, just as a heads up.


    Drabble Challenge: Day 8 - companion
    Word Count: 560    Minimum Goal: 480

    Vena gripped tight to the branch of the tree she had clambered up in, telling herself to keep breathing even as the barks and bays of the wolf pack drifted to her through the still air. Heavens above, she hoped they weren’t bright enough to knock down trees. She’d aimed for one with a thick trunk and bushy branches in the hope that maybe they wouldn’t even know she was there.
    She knew she should’ve left later with those monks, who’d been headed over the mountains but planning to stop in Dunlark as well.
    Silence fell briefly, enough that she put her back to the tree and stood on the large bough, attempting to see, only to have a deep snarl rip the silence in half. Something wasn’t right.
    There wouldn’t be anyone else out here, would there? And she hadn’t seen any tracks for animals. 
    Vena sat back down, pulled her cloak around herself, and wished for more common sense then it appeared she possessed. Also, for a warm fire and maybe even a bed, along with the walls of Dunlark surrounding her. And, while she was dreaming, maybe a big, strong travelling companion who could take on a pack of Greater Wolves. Not that very many of those existed, if any, but a girl could dream.
    Almost comfortable in her tree, surrounding by the smell of pine needles, Vena was coming to terms with the fact that she could very well be stuck in her hideaway the remainder of the night, when a shout, a very human shout, reached her ears.
    The cacophony of noises from the wolves went head to head with first one, then what must’ve been a dozen men’s voices, then the yelps started. As if the wolves were being—attacked.
    Hunters, she realized, crawling around the tree trunk, balanced precariously on the other limbs, trying to see where everyone was. The villagers she assumed were from Dunlark would have torches, and it only her a few moments to spot the flickering lights through the branches. 
    Taking on one Greater Wolf with a passel of men was dangerous, but a whole pack of what had to be at least ten strong? Vena wasn’t sure if she was the only one lacking common sense, but it would be nice to not have to spend the remainder of what would likely be a cold night up in a tree. 
    Despite the service it was providing her, listening to the fight was horrifying. Snarls and shouts mingled with screams and dying whines. Vena pressed her palms against her ears, pulling her knees up to her chest. She pressed her forehead against her knees and tried to lose herself in her thoughts.
    Time dragged on. The sounds started to fade, losing their intensity, but the cold was starting to seep in. Vena knew she had to move when she stopped shivered, the numbness having spread throughout, and felt her eyes begin to grow heavy.
    Forcing herself to move, the young woman began to descend from the tree, struggling to get her fingers to grip. Halfway to the bottom, her hold slipped on the branch. Bark tore into her palms and she dropped, smashing against one bough and landing in the snow at the bottom of the tree.
    Blackness poured in and nothing else, not even the possible danger, registered.

    As a spoiler, you remember from her bio, I talked about her companion, a Great Wolf by the name of Astarot? Well, that's what this is leading up to. You can't just walk up to an uninjured Great Wolf and take it as a pet, after all. Vena being injured too wasn't in the original thought stream, though, so we'll have to see what happens, eh?

    Now I want to watch some telly before I have to go to bed. Karate in a lot fewer hours than I want to consider and I'm not going to be able to watch half of what I want to as it is, so. Hope you all are at least partially interested in the Continuing Adventures of Vena Faeniran. 

    Ad astra per aspera.

    To the stars, through difficulties.

Drabble Challenge: Day 7

    Look at me, breaking my own attempt to stick to one thing all month. I was going to write Jaq for Dana, because he mentioned it over Skype this evening at his family's home (birthday party for the moms) and I'd been wrapping my mind around making this drabble one for Jaq, buuuut. Then I got on Youtube. And found Not Alone by Patty Griffin with a Tony and Ziva (NCIS) video to it. And proceeded to start crying.

    Long story short, I didn't have the heart to write something as cheery as the Jaq scrawl was going to be. So I went with something more fitting for my mood. Jaz again (sorry, she's been on my mind) at the funeral for the fallen after Busan was attacked. Pretty sure I've posted a scrawl for that whole fiasco, if you've confused. Just check out the Jaz tag.


    Drabble Challenge: Day 7 - formal
    Word Count: 460    Minimum Goal: 420

    They held a formal funeral the day after their attackers were driven off and their fortifications reinstituted. When the damaged city and her injured people had staved off the attack, Jaz gave the order to prepare for a funeral. For their lost leader, for their lost comrades. For the people they had lost. That she had lost too, but could not grieve for.
    She had one of the other commanders speak at the funeral. Someone most everyone would know and trust. Jaz knew she was still on the out; saving the city wouldn’t be enough. But she didn’t need their trust, just their obedience until they could see that she wouldn’t do wrong by them or by Busan. That she couldn’t.
    It wasn’t raining, but the clouds threatened overhead. The uniform that Jaz had requested be found for her was tight around the collar and stiff everywhere else, but she didn’t move a muscle where she stood in formation with the rest of the special operations forces. None of them did.
    Commander Stones’ voice rolled across them. Solemn. Grave. Respectful.
    Whitecourt had led them well for almost ten years. Mentor to many, friend to even more. Fair and just. But willing to make the hard decisions. Jaz knew it because he’d sent her on the mission that almost cost her her life. And she respected him for it.
    The cost of the skirmish had been high. None of the other names registered with her, but she took note of them anyways. Their families would be on her list of tasks to attend. 
    A strong breeze blew through the cemetery, bringing the smell of rain with it. Jaz drew in a discreet breath, wishing for the freedom to close her eyes and allow herself to stop thinking for a time. 
    “Busan is a strong city, a strong collective. We have survived before and we will again. We will rebuild and we will defend ourselves better next time. A temporary replacement was appointed after Chief Commander Whitecourt was lost, and will remain in place for the time being. Commander O’Haire has been absent, presumed dead, for almost a year now, but she was the one who rallied our forces yesterday, who mobilized a strong offense, and kept any more from falling. We have elected to allow her to stay in command until a point at which we can reelect a new chief.”
    Jaz was surprised at the lack of ripples through the crowd. There were no murmurs, no intakes of breath. 
    From wounded returning to chief commander. There was a knot in her stomach and she would have to be an idiot not to sense her own fear. But this was her home and she was going to do right by it.


    So yeah. Kind of on the sober side, but sometimes your heart gets in a place and it's not easy to drag it back. I will write Jaq for you, Dana, have no fear. It just couldn't be today.

    Ad astra per aspera.
    To the stars, through difficulties.

Drabble Challenge: Day 6

    Well, the determination to write Vena all month lasted all of six days. Heh. I kinda had the urge to scrawl some Jaz (that black-ops soldier with the suicide mission?) and so today's prompt went to her. Apologies to those who were curious over Vena and that mysterious dude. I honestly have no idea if he played any important role in anything.


    Drabble Challenge: Day 6 - flame
    Word Count: 373     Minimum Goal: 360

    A wall of flame. Searing pain across her body.
    Jaz awoke with a jerk, but not a noise left her. Training was ingrained far too deeply into her to allow for that.
    Drawing in a silent breath, she sat up, swung her legs over the side of the cot, and let her eyes adjust to the darkness around her. She could hear Tracey breathing across the room and got to her feet.
    Sidestepping around the broken furniture, Jasmine went out onto the rickety balcony, only opening the sliding glass door far enough to get out and before it could squeal in protest. The night air was cold, but the gooseflesh that broke out across her bare arms was a relief. 
    She could still feel the fire. The fire that must’ve put her in that hospital where she’d woken up, alone and with no idea about where she’d come from. 
    The railing groaned in protest when the woman leaned her forearms against it, staring out over the slumbering city. Most of the buildings were dark, the only light coming from the street lamps, although in this sector, very few of those were still functioning. 
    There were never even any impressions. Of where she might’ve been before she lost her memories. The doctor at the hospital had said that some people would get feelings when they revisited places they’d been prior to their memory loss. Jaz hadn’t had any and she and Tracey had been a lot of places in the last year.
    She let out a quiet breath, letting her head hang. Her hair, finally growing back, obscured her peripherals. 
    It didn’t matter to her too much. Remembering. She had a life, one that she was comfortable with, working as a mercenary with Tracey to watch her back. It’d taken her a long time to trust the other woman with her back, but she’d earned it when a job in a palace went sideways.
    Jaz just had a nagging feeling that she’d had ties somewhere that had been important to her. Probably in some type of task force or military, considering the type of reflexes and instincts she’d woken up with.
    A brief smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. That poor nurse…



    Again, my apologies. This random person got the spontaneous urge to write some Jaz, so I wrote some Jaz. (You know, if you say that out loud, if you took it out of context, I'd sound like a musician.)

    So hopefully you all found this interesting, and just as a random note, I have a friend whose eighteenth birthday is today, so.... Happy Birthday to him. ^_^ (Not that I think he reads my blog, but, all the same.)

    And lots of parenthesis today. Just feeling like it, I guess. Breaking Benjamin, parenthesis, and a random bike ride. I stink right now and I never really stink, so this is quite interesting. 

    But, I'll go now.

    Ad astra per aspera.
    To the stars through difficulties.

Drabble Challenge: Day 5

    I don't think there is a way to express how much I like this cover of "Roar" by Katy Perry. Because I am in serious love and it's just.... sorry, covers.

    Seriously though, these things are getting harder. It's not a five minute scrawl now. More like ten. It's going to take me an hour to do over 1,500 words. Yaaaay. (Expression of the week, my apologies.)


        Drabble Challenge: Day 5 - haze
    Word Count: 319    Minimum Goal: 300

    Vena lifted her head off the cold cobblestones, drawing in an unsteady breath. Memory filtered back through her semi-conscious haze. Walking back from scrounging up dinner, running across a couple of men beating another man, getting in the middle of it.
    One of them had backhanded her and the brick of the building at her back hadn’t been forgiving.
    Coughing, she pushed herself onto her elbows, muttering, “I hate the city….”
    Something trickled along the bridge of her nose and when Vena reached to brush it away, her fingers came away dark. She assumed it was blood, despite the dark sky overhead. It must not have been too many hours ago that she lost consciousness.
    A moan sounded nearby. Jerking upright, Vena tried to catch sight of the source of the noise even as her head swam, blotting her vision with black.
    “Who’s there?” Her voice cracked and she wished it hadn’t. Out of instinct, she pulls one of the gloves off her hands. Being a mindpath didn’t have many good points, but protection was one of them and she wasn’t afraid to do what she had to.
    Another muffled noise, then the shuffle of clothing. “Who’s….there…?”
    Vena was sure she recognized that voice. “You’re that—that man, with the friends.”
    “…friends?”
    She is unapologetic for her term, putting her fingers to her forehead again, trying to find the source of the blood. The alley is very quiet; more quiet than she thought it should be, but it was a ways out of the way. The fact that they’d never been found also evidenced that conclusion.
    There was a grunt, more shuffling, then a long breath. “Are you who distracted them?”
     Male, as she’d known. Younger than originally thought. “I suppose. I was passing by and saw the party. Wasn’t sure how much more your face could take.”
     He made a small noise of tired humor. “Well, thank you.”


    And that is today's drabble and I want to try and get another couple episodes of tv in before I have to hit the sack. Maybe. If it decides it wants to buffer. Blasted thing has been crawling all day long. Ah well.

    Ad astra per aspera.
    To the stars, through difficulties.

Drabble Challenge: Day 4

    Look who is keeping up rather well. I am quite proud of myself right now. Besides that I have a book and a chapter to read for school stuff. 

    OHMYGOSH, Netflix has Upside Down. The movie. With the star-crossed lovers or whatever it was. And it's a Friday. And we should be able to watch it.

    Allow me to now proceed to rush through this post.

    Drabble Challenge: Day 4 - snowflake

    Word Count: 286     Minimum Goal: 240

    It never ceased to amaze her. How one snowflake upon another could create the snowdrifts that unfortunate travelers such as herself had to wade through.

    Vena stopped to take a breath, knee deep in snow and starting to feel its effects. She still had quite a ways to Dunlark and even though it was only mid-afternoon, the sky was starting to darken with more clouds, ones that looked more than a little foreboding and almost certainly promising more snow.

    At least it wasn’t wolf season. They tended to move down south to the valleys during the winter months, and that was the only reason she was out here on her own. Last year, there’d been a peddler’s caravan headed towards Dunlark as well and she’d been able to hitch a ride with them.

    No such good fortune this time.

    Running a hand through the loose strands of her hair, Vena trudged on, humming a simple melody she’d picked up a few weeks ago to keep herself occupied. Memory was serving her well and she was able to follow the trail up the mountainside with relative ease.

    The mindpath’s brows creased as she skirted around what felt like a large boulder. There was something n the wind these days that she didn’t understand. A whisper of danger for her kind. She didn’t know where it’d come from, and it wasn’t very strong, but sometimes a feeling would crawl down her spine. 

    A strong breeze blew past Vena and brought an eerie sound with it, one that even she had the better sense to stay away from.

    The deep bay of a Greater Wolf on the hunt.

    And where there was one, there were sure to be more.

    By the way, did I mention that my drabble series, by the definition Penny provided, is going to break the rules for drabbles? Just as a warning. These are going to get progressively longer as the days slip past. (So long as I can keep up.)

    And no, she does not get eaten by wolves. 

    Ad astra per aspera.

    To the stars, through difficulties.