Wingfeather Saga 5th book RP
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Thank you so much! 😀
Whatever we love deeply becomes a part of us.
~Helen KellerTotally! 😉
"Whatever man loves dominates them. I loved wrong, for I loved myself. You don't know how sorry I am."
Hi everybody! Sorry that I haven’t been on here lately, but I’ve been busy since: School is starting back tomorrow (the summer went by waaayyy too quickly!), and COVID-19 is finally starting to let up so I’ve been able to get out and about more. But I FINALLY reread The Warden and the Wolf King after two years! Yay!!!!!!!! *Does a happy dance* (if you can’t tell, I’m very excited 😜.)
~Kylie
Me=Wingfeather Saga fanatic. Nope, not ashamed.
Hi @kylie-wingfeather! Glad you’re back, and that you’ve read the book (isn’t it great?). 🙂
Making something beautiful in a broken world can be harrowing work. And it can’t be done alone.
~APYay!! Welcome back, Kylie!! And that’s awesome that you reread the last book! It’s amazing, isn’t it?
also, I’ve missed you on the time travel collaborative story! Do you think you‘ll head over there soon? No pressure, it’s just that it’s not the same without you 😊
Whatever we love deeply becomes a part of us.
~Helen KellerHey y’all! Now that (I think) we’ve all got the characters sorted out, I believe it’s time to start!!!!! Oh! And just so you know, I’m changing Elinor’s name to Sylvie since I already have a character in another collaborative story named Elanora. Here we go!!!! (Yes, I know I’m using a lot of exclamation marks, but I’m really excited, so please forgive me. 🙂)
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On one bright early summer morning in the Green Hollows, a bird (or any sort of flying creature) flying over a small farm just outside of Ban Rona might observe a blond haired, silvery-blue eyed girl sitting on a broad branch, reading a very, very thick book. This girl was Sylvie Aernil, adopted daughter of the Bronan family. The thirteen year old girl had woken up early that morning, excited for the day. For later, Olumphia Groundwich and Guildmaster Clout were finally (finally!) going to get married. As Sylvie read on, she didn’t notice the two Durgan guildlings sneaking up on her.
“Hello Syl”
Sylvie yelped and scrambled to not fall off and drop the heavy book.
“Larnik! Brosa!”
She glared at her brother and his friend, who were currently doubled over in laughter.
“Do you have to practice your Durgan techniques on <i>me.</i>”
“Sorry Sylv,” Larnik said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “But Ma wants you in the living room.”
Sylvie’s exasperation at the two boys vanished immediately. It must be time to get ready and head over to the Guildling Hall for the wedding! Sylvie leapt off the tree, tossing the book to her brother (“Catch!”) and darted over to the large two-story house house where she and Larnik lived with six more brothers and sisters.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~So how was that? My sister needs me to go help her with something right now, but I’ll hopefully right some more later. Bye!
Me=Wingfeather Saga fanatic. Nope, not ashamed.
Nice, Kylie!! That was really great and funny! 😀 I’ll work on my post tonight 🙂
Yay, though! I’m so excited that we’ve started!
Whatever we love deeply becomes a part of us.
~Helen KellerWell done, Kylie! Here goes:
‘
'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘`’Gammon crouched on a low roof, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth. He tried to keep the smile from spreading across his face, but it was hard to help while living his dream of being a secret hero. His dark eyes twinkled in his black mask, and his black cape flowed freely in the breeze. The volage (<em>1) </em>on his chest glowed a dim red. His daughter, Maraly, hissed softly through her teeth as a dagger glinted bright in one of her hands.
“Aren’t we goin’ down there yet, Gammon? They’re stealing stuff already, and I bet they’ve got a Burrow nearby.”
“Patience, Maraly. We don’t want them startled when they’re in the house. Otherwise people could get hurt.”
Maraly scowled. “Some Florid Sword you turned out to be.”
Gammon chuckled quietly, silently shifting his position. “Thank you.” He turned on his Florid Sword voice. “But keep thou ears hearing, and thy eyes seeing, and thy nose smelling, and any other senses thou might have that I dare not take the time to guess alert, for our villains have emerged from said house, loaded with plunder!”
Maraly snorted softly and grunted. “Can’t you just say, ‘Get ready, here they come’ like an normal person?”
“The Florid Sword is not normal.” Gammon teased in a stern voice. He winked at Maraly, then leapt, black clothing and sparkling blade creating what he was sure was an ominous shadow against the full moon. “Aha!”
‘
'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'”'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘'‘`’Who’s Maraly again? Do we have a Maraly? I felt like we had one… :/
Making something beautiful in a broken world can be harrowing work. And it can’t be done alone.
~APLol, let me rephrase a sentence:
‘
'‘'‘'‘'The volage (1) on his chest glowed a dim red.
A bit more happened, then a certain footnote was supposed to pop up:
1: Volage – from the Old Gullish “vullidge,” which means “symbol on a hero’s chest, for use of identification, propaganda, and marketing.
Making something beautiful in a broken world can be harrowing work. And it can’t be done alone.
~APLol, that was so funny!! I like what Maraly said: “Can’t you just say, ‘Get ready, here they come’ like a normal person?”
That was a fantastic job representing all the characters as they are in the books!
Kalmar pulled at his stiff, tight collar that seemed to be choking him. He glanced around to make sure Nia wasn’t looking, then unfastened the top of it, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Unfortunately, his mother noticed, and quickly buttoned it back up. “Kalmar, I will not tolerate this! You look handsome, and you are not to fiddle with your collar anymore, understood? This is a special day for Olumphia and Guildmaster Clout. Now stop this nonsense,” she scolded.
“Yes, m’am,” Kalmar muttered. He wondered why one would have to wear something so hot and uncomfortable on such a bright summer’s morning, but knew better than to talk back to his mother.
“When’s it going to start?” he whispered anxiously to his brother, Janner.
“I don’t know. Just be patient.”
“Alright,” Kalmar said, growing tired of people telling him to stand still and wait quietly.
He stood on his tiptoes and peered over the crowd in a vain search for the bride. Kalmar spotted Guildmaster Clout, who looked nervous and quite distressed himself. Kalmar had heard that most people were like that before their wedding started.
He fell back and bounced on the balls of his feet.Janner nudged him, and Kalmar settled down and stopped twitching. But he thought that by the time Olumphia actually made her entrance, he would be no more than a burned crisp of a boy if she didn’t hurry up.
Whatever we love deeply becomes a part of us.
~Helen KellerSylvie frowned a bit as she stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to look over the crowd. Where was Olumpia? She sighed as she sat back down. At least she wasn’t uncomfortable like Larnik was, actually like all of the boys were, she thought as she observed a mother buttoning one of her son’s collars back up again. Suddenly a shout rang out over the rest of the crowd’s chatter: “She’s ready!” The group of Hollowsfolk and Annierans fell silent and began to hustle back to their seats.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Mom’s calling me back to school, so I’ll write some more later. Bye!
Me=Wingfeather Saga fanatic. Nope, not ashamed.
As everyone settled in their seats, wedding music began to play, and the bride began to walk down the aisle. Nearly everyone’s mouth fell open, and Sylvie could see why: though Olumphia had ten whiskers, though she usually wasn’t feminine at all, today, her joy lit up her face, and that joy made her the most beautiful person in the room. Olumphia beamed when she reached her husband-to-be-in-just-a-few-minutes and as she took his hand, Guildmaster Clout’s anxiety slipped off his face and vanished into thin air. They turned to face the ???????* and said their vows. When the ceremony was over, everybody headed out to a pavilion that had been set up for the wedding party. Sylvie felt her shyness begin to act up as she walked through the wedding guests, probably brought on by the many curious stares she received. Hollowsfolk didn’t usually have blond hair, so, while the people of Ban Rona were used to the adopted Annerian girl’s bright hair, people from Ban Hinik, Ban Yorna, Ban Rugan, and the Outer Vales were not. Sylvie sighed with relief as she made it out of the crowded pavilion, then immediately gave into a silent groan as she saw Larnik with a couple of his friends (whom she didn’t recognize) making their way towards her. Larnik hadn’t noticed her yet, but he soon would, and then he would drag her back to the party. She tensed, about to run for it, but… “Sylvie!” Great, she was caught. Sylvie turned and made her way to her brother, giving him her ‘piercing eye’ glare, though not the full effect. Larnik raised an eyebrow at her.
“You weren’t going to go sneak away and read were you? And don’t give the ‘I’m shy’ excuse.”
Sylvie sighed. “Maybe.”
The truth was that her brothers and sisters didn’t believe that she wasn’t shy because she wasn’t if it was just them and a couple of their friends. Her mother understood that she was shy, but instead of letting her stay at the edges of the gatherings, she pushed Sylvie into them. Her father had truly understood, but he was gone, farther than Sylvie could reach. Her brother’s eyebrow raised even higher.
“Sylv, Ma’s told you about this-” Sylvie interrupted. “Is that a Durgan climbing wall?” When her brother turned to look, Sylvie darted away, dimly aware of the boys Larnik had been talking with watching her~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*I’m not sure who would marry them.
So, just so y’all know, the boys Larnik was talking with were Janner and Kalmar.
Me=Wingfeather Saga fanatic. Nope, not ashamed.
Yay! We’ve started and I’m so behind! So good to hear from you, Kylie, so good to hear from Gammon, Maraly, Kalmar, and now Sylvie!!! Yay!!!
Oh, and Kinnan, I think I’m Maraly. I’m pretty sure. BTW, y’all are so funny! I love this, LOL
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Artham grinned at Kalmar, who was busy looking cranky. Nia had buttoned up his collar, and the boy was as stiff-necked as if a pole was stuck up his back. But Artham wasn’t faring any better. Nia and Arundelle had insisted upon making him a special shirt: one with slits in the back for his feathery appendages. It had been a difficult tussle trying to get it on, and Artham was pretty sure the collar was made to permanently force your chin up. He stood next to Arundelle, clasping her hand in his. She didn’t mind his talons in the least. At first, though, she had winced when he touched her. It was no fault of her own — they were cold and sharp, inhuman and a severe reminder of all that had transpired in the past ten years.
Artham no longer felt the overwhelming shame of leaving his brother to his death, for it hadn’t been his fault; but when he walked through the streets of the Hollows and Anneira, he was painfully aware of the people’s gentle smiles and averted eyes. They were kind, kinder than they had probably ever been before the fall of the Isle. But he was a living memory-jogger of their sorrow and suffering. There were no fangs in the Hollows, no lizards or wolves or bats in the Shining Isle. But there was the birdman. Artham sighed, and Arundelle looked up into his face and smiled. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he was comforted. After the ceremony, Artham stood chatting with a few Hollish men, including Bunge, when he saw Kal and Janner wander off with Brosa. He was glad they had friends, and were able to enjoy a peaceful childhood at last. Kal was king, that was for sure; but Artham and Nia and the other elders took care of much of the ruling for him. They guided him in directions, and made sure he made many important decisions by himself. But eleven year old boys were not made to sit on a throne all day long. Certainly not Kalmar. Artham was jerked out of his thoughts by Orcal, who had a very loud and obnoxious voice.
“–and then Rabbic stuck his hand in the fire trying to grab the pearl out. Shouldn’t have dropped his mum’s necklace in the first place. Dumbest thing I’ve ever seen, aside from when Hays tried to mount his horse from the right side. I say, we have enough youth. How about a fountain of “smart,” men? Right?”
Artham shook his head and laughed with the others. He was going to cherish laughter as long as he lived. As. long. as. he. lived.
"Whatever man loves dominates them. I loved wrong, for I loved myself. You don't know how sorry I am."
Hooray! You’re here! Yes, I do believe that you are Maraly 🙂
Lol, love your post!! You managed to slip in humor, but also had those streaks of Artham’s sadness and regrets.
And I especially loved the part where you said:“Artham shook his head and laughed with the others. He was going to cherish laughter as long as he lived. As. long. as. he. lived.”
That really pulled some deep chords in me.
BTW I’ll try to post soon 🙂
Whatever we love deeply becomes a part of us.
~Helen KellerThanks for letting me know! I’m thinking that I may be Arundelle as well, if that’s ok… 🙂
Making something beautiful in a broken world can be harrowing work. And it can’t be done alone.
~AP
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