|A snippet of my story. Come read!|
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Writing is my main thing, but I like to draw shiny, bubbly things with bold outlines too. I also dabble in pixel art. My greatest dream is to someday have created a story awesome enough to have its own page on TV Tropes.
Please don't feel the need to thank me for favoriting your art; I favorite anything I find cute or otherwise awesome. A llama is thanks enough!
Vaerin was there, sitting by her side. “Are you alright?” he asked in a near-whisper of worry. “You took a heavy blow to the head earlier.”
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Where are we?”
“I take it that this is some kind of jail then.”
He nodded, curling in on himself, chest to his knees.
Crislie glanced about at the rough walls, pressed too closely together for her taste. A lone window drooled gobs of fading sunlight through rusting bars. Besides themselves, there were only three other things inside the cell. The first was a wooden bench. The second, a pair of discarded manacles. And the third, huddled fearfully in the far of the room-
Oh. Crislie’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze alighted upon the fae; the first she had ever seen.
For one of the faerie folk, the child pressed in the shadowy corner of the room was rather muted, rocking back and forth with his arms thrown over his head. She saw no leering menace or clawed hands. All she saw was frailty; a smallness swallowed up by his patchy, baggy sweater. His pale hair was rumpled and uncombed. His face was a mess of dirt and quietly frozen tears, but for a halo rubbed clean around each of his watery eyes. And what eyes they were! The color of them was ordinary enough — a faded green, like drying leaves. The problem was that all of his eye was green. Green, and insectoid, and a bit too large for his face. He had no pupil nor sclera to speak of.
Crislie didn’t know what to say when she met his watery gaze. Her mouth clamped shut, her mind running through several possible scenarios. Was he considering hexing her with his strange elemental magics? Would he lash out in animalistic anger? Fright flashed across the fae boy’s face. He bared sharp teeth, lowered his head, and turned away from them.