Daily #3, 473 words

Strolling through the ripe and vibrant pumpkin patch together, Amalia and Teya exchanged the occasional few words. They had only met a few hours earlier, but had quickly felt a connection growing between each other. Their looks even complemented each other - Amalia’s short ginger hair and Teya’s mid-length brown; Amalia’s minimalistic and simple fashion sense and Teya’s perfectly curated wardrobes for each season. It was like they were meant to be together from the start, they looked so picture-perfect together. Only, they were both awkward and shy around each other - perhaps they were nervous and didn’t want to seem weird to the other person. Either way, it was fate they would end up together.
“So, have you enjoyed today?” asked Teya, with a beaming smile.
“Yes. A million times yes. I want to do this again with you some time soon,” replied Amalia, mimicking the same joyful smile as Teya. “When are you next around?” she asked, excitedly, still beaming.
“I can come out tomorrow, if you’d like. I’m free all this week. We can really get to know each other!” Teya remarked. You could really sense how delighted and joyful these two girls were. They stood standing next to each other, just taking in the wonderful view of the ripe patch of pumpkins.
“We could pick one now and carve one together,” suggested Teya, slightly more withdrawn.
“What if the farmer notices? Would we get away with stealing one of these?” Amalia exclaimed.
“Of course the farmer won’t notice! They don’t just sit around and watch their fields all day! It’s not like they have any CCTV around here!” joked Teya, now leaning over one of the round orange gourds.
They both tugged and tugged at the giant, and with every pull it was coming more and more out of the ground. If they kept going at it, they would eventually pull it out.
“Ah! There it is!” exclaimed Amalia, with a sense of relief. She stood in front of Teya, offering for her to carry it instead. Teya was the more active and strong of the two. Instead, Teya took half of the pumpkin and let Amalia carry the other half. They both exchanged a small but sincere smile before steadily walking to the edge of the field, and through the bushes.
“Hey, do you think we look weird like this?” asked Amalia, jokingly.
“No, not at all! That doesn’t matter! All that matters currently is us. Don’t think about anyone else,” reassured Teya. Another mutual beaming smile, and some more enthusiastic laughter. They walked back through the quaint village to where Teya had parked her car, got in and drove off.
“So, I’ll see you round yours tomorrow?” asked Amalia.
“Definitely! We’ll carve our new harvest together!” replied Teya, with yet another huge beaming smile on her face.

11/3/23
Cynthia loved the fall. And winter, and summer, and spring, and plenty of other seasons. Particularly the seasons she'd invented. She was in a fall mood today, despite it being the start of spring. She gave a few waves and put on a warmer sweater as the air quickly grew brisk. Spring turned to fall a little too fast. Sure it would severely disrupt the ecosystem, but she'd fix that later. For now she wanted to feel the chill wind on her scales and sip pumpkin spice cocoa till the cows come home. She walked by trees as their leaves grew back and turned red quickly. The colors reminded her of fire in the sunlight, and she loved it. She sat under a tree and scratched runes into the bark while she waited for herself to get thirsty. At that point she conjured a mug of hot chocolate, breathing in the scent deeply. It warmed her, making her feel a moment of peace before guzzling the drink. She was a dragon, of course it didn’t burn her. She let the drink settle in her stomach, wondering about the leaves and the sky and a few other things. She could make the whole world fall if she wanted, but instead she’d only made this section of it fall. It could be spring if she wanted, or summer. She loved summer, especially the beach. She could even make it a season that didn’t exist. Wouldn’t that be fun? She’d probably bug some nature deity in the process but that was a problem for later. For now, she just stared. She wasn’t sure at what, or why, but she just took in her immediate surroundings. Waiting. Just… resting.
Of course that didn’t last forever. She made a massive leaf pile with a gust of her wings before diving into it, laughing. It’d been ages since she’d done this. Years at least. She’d forgotten what it was like. Of course she’d change this back eventually, but she didn’t hear anybody complaining.
So far.
The cold leaves made her shiver, but she embraced the feeling. Within the leaf pile she reached in her pocket, the main reason she felt like doing all of this in the first place. She pulled out a pumpkin seed. Though it wasn’t much, it was a lovely idea to see what it’d become. She chuckled and finally started her real magic, pouring plant magic into the plant. The pumpkin grew more and more, making Cynthia stir with glee. She’d make it massive, huge, colossal! And then carve it to the most pumpkiny perfection.
Halloween may have been over for months, but Cynthia wasn’t letting go of it yet.

(451 Words)

Daily 11/3 || 452 words
It was a cold, yet beautiful afternoon, as Goblet and Esmeralda stepped outside of their cavern, the sun shining down on the forest they resided in. The leaves were full of warm colors, reds and oranges and yellows awing Goblet as he sat down, reflecting on his life and occupation thus far. Esmeralda sat down next to him, her eyes hiding all emotions as she left her companion to his outdoors session. The two sat for a while, as a cluster of clouds began to block the sun, sending a chilly breeze across the two dragons’ scales.
“Ess, I need to go,” Goblet said, the emerald dragon sharply responding “No, you don’t.”
His pink eyes watched her, a sharper gust of wind blowing a talonful of leaves off of the autumn trees. The clouds fully covered the sun, sending the forest into darkness as he calmly spoke again.
“I must go. This may be your calling, but it isn’t mine.”
“What are you talking about-?!” Esmeralda snapped.
“I’m not going to spend the rest of my life in that cave,” he explained. Before Esmeralda could respond, he said “I’m sorry,” and spread his wings, taking off into the skies. A harsh breeze blew, sending more leaves spiraling to the ground as Esmeralda watched him leave, in shock.
The amethyst dragon flew across the forest, wondering if he should turn around and go back. Had he made the wrong decision, leaving his simple life?
…No. He needed more. He wasn’t born to sit in a cave all day and fight a creature every few months. He needed an adventure, a life, maybe even some friends who care about him and respect his opinions…
The clouds parted, the sun shone, and Goblet smiled. This was the right thing to do. Turning over a new leaf, like Esmeralda would say. Except those leaves were shades of orange.
And either way, if something went wrong, Esmeralda had a bit of a heart. She would accept him back if he returned.

Esmeralda watched Goblet leave, unsure how to feel. She hadn’t expected this… but whatever, she supposed. He was always itching to ‘find his own destiny’ and all of that nonsense. As she turned to resume her job, she noticed the leaves falling around her. And as she paused, she felt a strange feeling. Like there was a void in her near-perfect life. “Maybe I’ll miss him, at least a little bit,” she sighed. “If only he understood how important he was.” As the leaves continued falling around her, she retreated into her cave solemnly.
The autumn had began, bringing a quiet end to a mild companionship, but opening the two gemstone dragons’ worlds to new possibilities.

daily 3
the stream's freezing water was rushing by beneath her. she sat on the shore cross-legged, too nervous to go and take a dip alone. her friend would be here soon, and she was almost certain that ceres would plead for her to join. a wind swept some more leaves into the current, and she watched them float away. she smiled, but her lips were so cold that it almost hurt. she loved fall despite all the death and cold - it meant that there would be new life in the spring, pretty shades of green and flower buds, rays of warm sunshine. and all the dead leaves would go back into the earth, providing soil for four-leafed clovers. she stared at the spots of orange and brown in the stream once again, imagining that they were serving as boats for tiny little faeries. she wished she had someone to share the moment with, but the path to her left remained lifeless and silent.
then there was a tap on her shoulder, which caused her to jump. she thought it must've been an acorn or something since she was still very alone, but behind her was ceres.
“oh, you -” she began, before breaking down in giggles.
“surprise!”
they laughed together for a little bit, both grateful that their friendship was still able to grow despite all the hardships in the world. it was like they had built a new one together, one full of their own joy and innocence. ceres glanced at the stream, and then sighed.
“i think it's too cold today,” she said.
“really? but you're never cold.”
“well, things change.” she glanced at the half-withered dandelions, the ones that had died before becoming fluffy white poofs. “want to make flower crowns?”
“i thought you'd never ask. of course!”

but that had been a year ago. today it was even colder, and aspen was on her own. ceres wouldn't be coming today, she wouldn't be coming again ever. which was why she had decided to let her legs dangle into the half-frozen water below - it made her feel numb, which was exactly what she wanted. after all, fall was a season of dying, and she'd realized that in perhaps the hardest way. the growing wouldn't come for a long time, and everyone was left to survive on what they had left - which wasn't all that much. she watched the leaves fall to the floor, knowing that they had fallen because they were dead. she stared at herself in the water, her features all blurred and messy. and finally she stood up, her boots dripping water into the dry earth, and began her long trek home. the ice and leaves crunched beneath her feet.

this doesn't make much sense sorry :D

The long, listless heat of the summer was fading at last, and the winds picked up, carrying with them the hint of autumn, a fresh, crisp scent that nipped at the wings and reinvigotated the spirit. One such breeze twined around her legs, sending leaves skittering among her paws as she made her way through the trees. The branches above her head were aflame with every shade of red, orange, and yellow, their true colors finally revealed and blazing with all their might against a brilliant azure sky. Emerging upon the riverbank, she saw him waiting there for her, just at the edge of the water. He turned as she approached, the warm afternoon sunlight reflecting in his eyes. Without a word, she bounded down the bank to sit by his side, their pelts, growing thicker and fuller by the day, brushing against each other. It seemed at that moment as if they were the only ones awake in the whole wide world, as if time had stopped in that idyllic, untainted hour before dusk fell and everyone else woke up. But the moment passed, and time marched onward. The plants ripened and everyone busied themselves with collecting food. Together, she and him dug their paws into the earth, the earth rewarding them with delicacies of seeds and roots, nuts and fruits. The harvest was plentiful, and they rejoiced in the bounty, the rich sense of life itself, sure as the clutch of eggs she now bore. Surely, this was the truest happiness, the meaning of their lives together. However, there was a hint of urgency in the air, too. The winds were chillier, no longer playful but instead a warning of what was to come. They called to her to leave that place, to follow the river to warmer shores and respite from storms. Find a new home before it was too late. Heeding this call, she tried to spread her wings, only to find that his remained tucked at his side. He could not hear the voice in the breezes, nor smell the decay as the once-bright leaves now fell to the ground, brown and shriveled. His blindness tied her down and she could not fly away. The jaws of winter came one night, amidst the first flurries of snow, stealing away her hatchling, and with xim, her heart. The wind was cold now, cold as ice, and it whirled around her, stirring her pelt and lifting her up, up into the stormy sky. Even he could not hold her down any longer, though he tried. She ran, the ground crunching beneath the beat of her paws, the last of the leaves crumbling to dust below her. Through the skeletal trees, the empty forest, down to the riverbank where once, only a season ago, there it had been warmth and love. The ice coated the water now, and she skimmed the surface as easy as forgetting. But- wait- a crack in its smooth hardness, and she was falling, tumbling away into the inky abyss of the water, swallowing her in its nothingness.

Weekly 1

Part 1
Inspiration: “A friend to all is a friend to no one” (idk)

Twila smiled and took a deep breath. “You got this,” she said. “Today will be a different day.” She rehearsed her lines in her head and made sure to iron out any wrinkles. Today she would try and talk to someone. Before, her heritage had gotten in the way, and she was afraid if she said something people would be even more upset than they already were. Gargoyles and humans opposed each other so fiercely, so naturally being half human and half gargoyle made things difficult. After all, no one likes a double dealer.
That didn’t mean she wanted to live like a hermit.
This time they would see past her double-sided nature. This time they would see her for her personality and tastes. Who knows? If the day goes well, she might just make a friend. Someone who would hang out and have a good time with her, who would look past her large horns or her small nose. They wouldn’t mind that she had taloned fingers and rounded pupils.
Despite her optimistic attitude, she made sure to mark all of her escape routes. Just in case.
Twila opened her front door for the first time in a month and felt the unfamiliar feeling of the breeze blowing her hair back. She ignored the whispering and pointing and made her way through the busy street to the general store. Looking for a good excuse to make conversation, she picked up an apple and placed it on the counter. All right. Don’t panic. “Good morning, sir.” The gargoyle behind the counter glanced nervously at her and buried himself further into his book, clearly trying to ignore her. Sweat began to coat her hands, but she made herself continue. “Is…um, is your book interesting?” She asked. The gargoyle shook his head in annoyance and slammed the book on the counter. “Do you need something, human?”
The carefully subdued panic couldn’t be held back.
Twila shrunk. “Oh, no sir. Sorry sir, I was just leaving.” She wrapped herself in her cloak and fled before he had a chance to call the guards on her like last month. She didn’t have the heart to even try talking with the humans. Keeping her head down, she finally made her way back home. The gargoyle-girl resigned herself to hiding for another month. Flipping to an open page of her diary, she had only one thing to write down.
To my parents,
I’m sorry.

(NOTES: well, uh, ahaha….I tried? idk I'm in a writer's block right now so it's kinda forced, but I'm mostly breaking down over the fact that the entire internet can see this but oh well you need a crisis every now and then)

Part 2:
Name: Twila
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: straight (is that the word?)
Strengths: Stealthy, agile, open-minded, supportive, not easily angered.
Weaknesses: Self-doubt, yes-man, overwhelming desire to please others.
Tendencies: She hides herself in her own home, and only goes out once a month for supplies. While being an outcast, she will do anything, even things she would never ordinarily do, just to please someone else. She has resorted to stealing on occasion due to not having enough money for food. She will have occasional spells where she lets the isolation get to her, making her borderline insane. After these episodes, she goes on an intense cleaning spree.
(I hope I did this right, writing is hard and it’s kind of painful to read my own writing)

Part 3:
On its way oh boy oh boy

Churro's Dailies #3
(word count :400)
The twins rushed into the stream, dancing around, splashing water onto each other. It was near October, but they didn't care. Soon it was about to get really, really cold, so they wanted to get wet as much as possible before the stream froze up.
Ditee, one of the twins, had gone super far down the stream, and Ero stayed near the shore. They were polar opposites; yet they were extremely close, too. Ditee was adventurous, brave, and humorous, while Ero was more poetic and quiet.
“Ero!” Ditee yelled to his brother on shore. “Do you see that?!”
The boy pointed towards the deep end of the river. “There's a snake down there!”
Ero tilted his head. “Yeah, why?”
Ditee looked at his twin with a grin. “Can we keep him as a pet?”
“What? No! He… he could be poisonous!” Ero shrieked.
“Oh, come on! I know you're just scared of it!” Ditee pleaded.
He waded down into the stream, slowly moving towards the viper. He motioned to Ero to be quiet. Ero kept shaking his head. Something could really happen to his brother!
Ditee was almost right next to the snake. He stuck his hands under the water, and came up with a green-and-yellow striped viper. “Come on, Ero! We've got him!”
Ero's eye's widened. “No, Ditee! Put it back! It's poisonous! I can tell!” Ero lunged toward the snake, but it was too, too late. The viper bit Ditee on the arm… and he fell, into the deep blue stream.
“NO!” Ero yelled. “BROTHER! COME BACK!” He dragged him back to shore, which probably wasn't the best move, because then the snake reared back… and sunk it's fangs into Ero's flesh too.
“No…” Ero croaked. The poison was taking effect too, too soon…
As the two twins died, the god Zeus say the two brothers, side by side, legs intertwined. They really were the best of friends, he thought. The deserve to be together, even at the end. The mighty god reached down, through the clouds, and tied the two boy's ankles together. He dangled them up through the heavens, and turned them into two fish. Then he placed them in the stars, into another puzzle piece of the universe.
Now, you can see them most prominently during October to December, around the time they were placed in the stars. They're almost smiling at you, in the sky, right there.

Daily Nov. 4th, 434 words

The Eagle (Aquila)

The Eagle glared, with sharp eyes, at the world around it. It was not happy. Everywhere it looked it saw nothing but death and destruction, pain and despair. It was tired. It was sick and tired of it all.
Sadly, though, the Eagle could not leave. It was immortal, or close enough to it - a representative of eagles everywhere. If it died, all eagles would follow. If all eagles died, it would follow.
The Eagle could not die, no. But it could suffer.
It tried to fix things, for a while. It tried to help when something was in danger, it tried to help when something was in pain, it tried to help when something was discouraged. It tried to protect, it tried to soothe, it tried to encourage.
Nothing it did seemed to work.
Upon flying over a lake, it decided to talk to the Fish. The Fish was its good friend, and it talked to it often. At least, when time was viewed on the scare of immortals. It had actually been a few decades since they had last talked.
The Eagle touched down on the bank of the lake, digging its talon into the soft - yet pleasantly crunchy - sand. It fluttered its wings, then let out a CAW!
The Fish surfaced almost immediately. It knew that only the Eagle could voice a CAW! that loud and powerful.
“Hello Eagle!” the Fish exclaimed. The Fish was always bright and bubbly.
“Hello Fish,” the Eagle replied in a significantly calmer tone.
“What brings you here today?”
“I’ve been…thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how to make the world a better place.”
“…That sounds like a lot to think about. Wanna talk about it?”
“Yes, in fact.” The Eagle sighed. “Everything is so horrible for everyone…it makes me so sad. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.”
“Oh no! Don’t tell me you’ve thought about flying away.”
“Flying away? What do you mean by that?”
“Flying away up into the stars. Like the Crab.”
“Oh…I’d never thought about that. Actually…that’s wonderful! I could fly away and the other eagles wouldn’t have to die! That’s perfect! Thank you Fish, thank you very much.” The Eagle bent down, preparing to take off.
The Fish splashed it with water. “What are you doing? You can’t just leave! You have to protect this planet! It’s your duty!”
“I can’t, Fish. This place is too far gone. I have to go.”
“You can’t leave me here! You can’t leave anyone here! THIS ISN’T RIGHT!”
“You’ll understand, someday.” The Eagle flew into the sky, to be amongst the stars.

4th daily, 513 words
Lyra constellation

Out for his nightly walk, Orville daintily plucked his harp. Its ethereal, singing melodies rung out through the darkening forest. Accompanying him, was his friend Dalin. They strolled through the forest, just listening to the beautiful harmonies created by the harp and the sounds of the evening wood.
“You know, Orville, I do love your harp playing. It just sounds so blissful and pure. It could almost transport me to another world!” said Dalin, eyes closed, with a deeply analytical look on his face. He was really getting in to the music at this point, performing some half-conducting-like, half-interpretive-dance movements to the music.
“Well, thank you my friend. I’m really only an amateur, though. I’ve only been playing for a little short of a year,” remarked Orville, not taking his eyes off his instrument for even a fraction or a second. By the precision and intent with which he plucked each string, and by the gorgeous sounds and tone of his improvisations, you could tell that he really was destined to become a musician. He was “one with the music”.
“Wow, Orville, I think I can see the trees moving! They must be affected by your sounds!” excitedly proclaimed Dalin, looking to Orville to see if he would take his eyes off his harp.
“Oh Dalin, don’t be silly now. It’s probably just a light breeze making them move,” Orville replied calmly and disapprovingly, never looking away from the instrument. Nothing could stop his eagle-like concentration.
“There is no way that it’s a breeze - the trunks are lightly swaying in time with your melodies! Look!” exclaimed Dalin, desperate for Orville to realise that his music was having this effect on the inanimate objects of the darkened forest. Dalin seemed to be entranced by this effect, he had never observed it before. Maybe this forest was special, enchanted, or magical?
As Orville proceeded to not move away from his harp, Dalin leaned to grab it off him. He knew this was dangerous, and that Orville had a great attachment to his harp, but Dalin knew how precious it was and would never intend to drop it or break it.
“Hey, Dalin? What are you doing? Why are you trying to steal my instrument?” Orville questioned, not angrily but disappointedly.
“Sorry. I was just trying to get you to see how the trees were dancing to your music,”
“Well they aren’t moving now, or doing anything extraordinary, I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
“Of course they’re not now, you’ve stopped playing. Here, let me play your harp so you can see the trees dance!” Dalin suggested enthusiastically. Orville reluctantly handed his beloved harp to Dalin. As soon as Dalin touched it, it vapourised and floated up into the sky. It went past the trees, past the thin layer of clouds, and into the night sky. It formed six white stars, vaguely resembling the shape that the harp was.
“What have you done!? That was my harp, my beautiful harp, my pride and joy!” shouted Orville, looking longingly up at the newly formed stars.

Nickname - Ava
Content - November 3rd Daily
Word Count - 470/400
Cabin - Mystery

• …Some of the most prominent interpretations of the season's symbolism are of harvest, new beginnings and prosperity, and entirely conversely, of endings, decay, and reclusion…
  

• …in 450 words or more, write a scene focusing on character dynamics, and convey them through the atmosphere using fall symbolism…
  

The leaves no longer seemed bright orange or yellow to Saddy. They seemed brown, black, or sometimes even red.
The grass no longer felt soft to Saddy. it felt hard as if it hadn't been watered for days.
The sky was no longer the colors of blue and pink. Saddy saw it as a shade of miserable purple or deep maroon.

Nothing mattered anymore. Not the lighted pumpkins, carved terribly funnily by the neighbors to receive laughs from the children. Not the orange string lights hanging on every streetlight. Not the crunch of the leaves under her feet. Not the lively talking on the street as doors were knocked and candy was received. Not the beautiful sunset in front of her eyes.

The only thing she could feel was hatred. Hatred towards the world for moving on. How dare it, when everything should have just stopped? It had barely waited a second, leaving her in the dust, just like him.

It was always the same.
Why did she even try anymore?

Sighing deeply, a fog formed in the air. Even though it was mildly warm down where all the Halloween festivals went on, it was pretty chilly up on the hill. However, Saddy didn't wear a jacket. She wanted to feel the stinging cold pain on her skin. She wanted to collapse, and yet at the same time, she wanted to run back down the hill and go back to all her friends who were probably off trick-or-treating without her.

What was the point anyway? They could go on perfectly fine without her. So far, none of them had ever needed her during struggles. Was she being paranoid? Or did she deserve to sit up here, alone?

Her head in jumbled thoughts, she stood up her legs shakily walking to the edge of the hill. She had no intention of falling or jumping, just to tell her limits, to how far she could go before backing out like she always did.

I don't need to go back. Who's there for me to go back to?
I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sick, so, so sick so living life like this.
Autumn isn't supposed to be like this. It's supposed to be the season of joy, of harvest. So why am I the only one who's always left out?

The cold was numbing her senses. She couldn't feel her fingertips as she stared out at the sun, slowly setting. Her knees went slack as she prepared herself to hit the ground and go tumbling down the hill, perhaps breaking a bone or two.

She was not prepared to be grabbed onto by two hands pulling her back, a worried yelp sounding from behind her.

“Are you dumb, Saddy?”

Saddy turned her head to look back at the two angry eyes looking down at her.

“Grace?”

Exerpt from a bigger story

Go back home here

claim!!

Nickname - Ava
Content - November 4th Daily
Word Count - 572/400
Cabin - Mystery

• …Today we're bringing back a classic SWC daily - constellations!…
  

• …For this daily, you will write 400 words of either a fiction or non-fiction piece based on how your favourite constellation came to be…
  

• …Complete this daily to earn 300 points, with additional 100 points for sharing proof. Have fun!…
  

The eagle's eyes sharply caught the sight of a sparrow which hurriedly flew back. However, it generously let it escape, more focused on the task at hand: to get back to his master.

Lost at the zoo, it had been mistaken as a zoo animal and had almost been put in a cage. It's owner had frantically searched around for it, leaving in despair just as it had pecked the zoo workers and flown out of the cage.

Intellegent, determined and well trained, it trailed along the streets of the city, trying to spot the familiar blonde hair of its owner. Nowhere to be seen, unfortunately, it tried to look in a different direction, looking for a different alternative.

Grudgingly flying lower than it would like to, it had to deal with the gasps of children as it zoomed past the crowds. It just needed to see the blonde hair: the hair of the person who rescued it when it was hurt on the beach, all those years ago. It''s dark brown feathers brushed against the heads of a group of boys, who looked up and slightly backed away, smiles on their faces.

Perhaps if it went back to the house its master would be there. Unfortunately, it did not know the way back to its house. It kept trying to find its owner for over an hour: accidentally mistaking two blonde haired people as its owner and getting swatted away when it tried to settle on their arm, earning shrieks.

Tired and angry, it flew higher, higher, higher in the sky- perhaps it would spot its owner from there. It was clearly a bad move, with the events whcih took place rigth after.

After getting higher in the sky, distracted by a small puffy cloud, it lost vision for a few seconds as it flew through it. When it had come out, it's wings had been scratched by another bird who had been passing through the same cloud, and hadn't been in quite a good mood either. It would've fought the other bird if it hadn't had to land promptly due to the searing pain.

Falling on soft sand, it lifted it's head and saw the ocean waves. It all seemed oddly familiar. A sound of soft crying was heard a small distance away. Craning its neck, it saw the all too familiar blonde hair and pale, pale skin. Using it's strength, it slowly hopped over to the person, lightly pecking it's arms.

The blonde-haired person turned, shocked for a few seconds before crying once again: but out of joy. The eagle was scooped into it's master arms, letting out a small sound of pain, it's wound being pressed down.

It's master said something, a concerned expression looking down at it. The wound was larger than it seemed: travelling from it's wing down to its chest. There was no way it could survive this much blood loss, even if it was rushed to the vet right away.

Tears of joy turned back to tears of unhapiness as the eagle's owner gentlily scooped up teh eagle once more, keeping it carefully on her lap, watching the waves as she stroked its head.

Closing his eyes, it realised why it was all too familiar to him. It felt its senses dimming, and his body feeling ilghter: Almost like he was in the stars.

It was the place it had been rescued by her.

If you haven't noticed, the consteallation was Aquila :') Why are all my constellation stories depressing?

Go back home here

daily 4 - constellations
word count: 567

It was shining so bright in the lonely night sky. Its light provided warmth and guidance to those who abused it, but also to those who sought it for guidance. Days turned into months, months turned into years, years turned into decades, and decades turned into centuries. No matter how much time went by, it still stood there - The North Star, shining brighter than ever without even the slightest chance of dimming. Though as time went on the star grew lonely, it sought accompaniment - someone to talk to. A family it could cry with, laugh with, and spend time with. All it wanted was someone to lean on. And that, my friends, is when my story comes in…

It was shortly after the blue moon that I was born into the world. We would conduct ceremonies to wish good luck to those just starting their journey, in a modest attempt to guide them away from the darkness that lurks around. It all started with a spoon. Yes, a spoon. From the outside, it may have seemed like a boring everyday item, but only we knew of the power it possessed - the life that it could provide and the ability that it could give. But that night, everything changed. Some others have found its ability: to provide long-lasting immunity in the world. By eating a single bit of anything using that spoon, one is granted that power. Though as everyone knows, with power comes enemies.

That night I was placed in my cozy crib within our mini hut. My pretty blue eyes were looking up at the plain ceiling, endlessly pondering whatever I may have been thinking about at the time (that is unfortunately one part of my story that I don't remember). As I began to slowly drift off to sleep, I felt two cold hands carefully grabbing me out of my crib. I wanted to wake up, but my tiny body was too frail to do anything. With that, I was stolen into the night - captured from my home, not knowing where I was. As the morning sunlight shined through the window, I blinked upon my eyes.

Meanwhile, back at home, everybody was in a flurry of panic. I, the chief's daughter had gone missing, and nobody had the slightest idea of where I might be. My father searched day and night with the tribe but they couldn't find any clues that could tell them about my disappearance. Though, that night my village got a strange visitor. They claimed to have captured me and settled an agreement to give me back if our village gave them our most prized possession - the spoon. Everyone's immediate answer was yes, though I know it hurt them all to do so.

I was then taken back to the village and given back to my family. There were cries of joy, but also tears of sadness. Despite being young, I could feel everyone's presence of sadness and I knew what I had to do. Right as the handoff was being made, a rush of adrenaline went through my body - I ended up shooting myself, the captor, and the spoon up into the night sky. We ended up right beside the North Star - where I remain to this day. Although I don't talk to my people anymore, I am always watching over them, making sure that no one ever gets harmed again.

In the ancient skies above a realm veiled in mystery, there existed a world where celestial bodies held stories as timeless as the stars themselves. One such tale whispered through the eons was the origin of the Aquarian Constellation, known to many as the Water Bearer.

Long before the skies adorned their familiar patterns, there lived a young and humble water bearer named Aquila in a land where the rivers danced with the whispers of ancient deities. Aquila was renowned for her kindness and the purity of her heart, her presence akin to a shimmering stream that brought life and solace to the arid lands she called home. She was beautiful, her skin as clear as the water.

The realm was under the watchful gaze of the divine entities, and among them was the great deity of the skies, Zephyr, who took a keen interest in the extraordinary benevolence of Aquila. Zephyr, moved by her selflessness, descended from the heavens in human form to walk among mortals. He encountered Aquila as she knelt by the rivers, her hands gently cupping the life-giving waters.

Enraptured by her grace and compassionate spirit, Zephyr approached her, revealing his divine nature. He spoke of his admiration for her unwavering kindness and offered her a gift—a magical vessel that overflowed eternally with the purest waters.

Aquila, filled with gratitude, accepted the divine offering, vowing to continue her mission of bringing water and life to the lands. With Zephyr's blessing, she traversed the barren landscapes, quenching the thirst of the earth and its inhabitants. Her vessel poured forth an endless stream of revitalizing water, turning deserts into blooming gardens and arid lands into flourishing oases.

As time passed, Aquila's journey became a fabled legend, and her benevolence painted the sky. Zephyr, observing her unyielding dedication to the land, raised her vessel and Aquila herself into the heavens, immortalizing her as the Aquarian Constellation.

The stars formed a majestic figure of a maiden pouring an eternal stream of celestial water, symbolizing hope, altruism, and the everlasting gift of life. The constellation illuminated the night sky, a reminder of Aquila's boundless compassion and Zephyr's admiration, their tale forever etched in the cosmic canvas.

Through countless ages, people looked up at the Aquarian Constellation, retelling the story of the selfless water bearer whose love and generosity turned barren lands into bountiful paradises, a celestial monument to the beauty of kindness and the everlasting nature of benevolence.

+408 words

In the ancient skies above a realm veiled in mystery, there existed a world where celestial bodies held stories as timeless as the stars themselves. One such tale whispered through the eons was the origin of the Aquarian Constellation, known to many as the Water Bearer.

Long before the skies adorned their familiar patterns, there lived a young and humble water bearer named Aquila in a land where the rivers danced with the whispers of ancient deities. Aquila was renowned for her kindness and the purity of her heart, her presence akin to a shimmering stream that brought life and solace to the arid lands she called home. She was beautiful, her skin as clear as the water.

The realm was under the watchful gaze of the divine entities, and among them was the great deity of the skies, Zephyr, who took a keen interest in the extraordinary benevolence of Aquila. Zephyr, moved by her selflessness, descended from the heavens in human form to walk among mortals. He encountered Aquila as she knelt by the rivers, her hands gently cupping the life-giving waters.

Enraptured by her grace and compassionate spirit, Zephyr approached her, revealing his divine nature. He spoke of his admiration for her unwavering kindness and offered her a gift—a magical vessel that overflowed eternally with the purest waters.

Aquila, filled with gratitude, accepted the divine offering, vowing to continue her mission of bringing water and life to the lands. With Zephyr's blessing, she traversed the barren landscapes, quenching the thirst of the earth and its inhabitants. Her vessel poured forth an endless stream of revitalizing water, turning deserts into blooming gardens and arid lands into flourishing oases.

As time passed, Aquila's journey became a fabled legend, and her benevolence painted the sky. Zephyr, observing her unyielding dedication to the land, raised her vessel and Aquila herself into the heavens, immortalizing her as the Aquarian Constellation.

The stars formed a majestic figure of a maiden pouring an eternal stream of celestial water, symbolizing hope, altruism, and the everlasting gift of life. The constellation illuminated the night sky, a reminder of Aquila's boundless compassion and Zephyr's admiration, their tale forever etched in the cosmic canvas.

Through countless ages, people looked up at the Aquarian Constellation, retelling the story of the selfless water bearer whose love and generosity turned barren lands into bountiful paradises, a celestial monument to the beauty of kindness and the everlasting nature of benevolence.

+408 words

Nov. 4th Daily
555 words
The Lion ran as fast as he could, the heart he didn't know he had pounding. The hunters echoed behind him as they shouted arrows for where to shoot their arrows. The Lion wasn't sure how much longer they were going to run after him, or what they were even doing. He just knew they were bad.

These people had been to the forest once before, a few months ago. He barely heard any noise, but saw an arrow fly into the tree next to him. A couple days after they had left, Lion noticed he hadn't seen Tiger, his nemesis in a while.

And now, the same people were after him. Why? He asked himself. Why did they want him, of all animals?

But, before he could think about it any longer, the rush of adrenaline came back to him as an arrow whizzed past his ear. He tried to run as fast as possible, but he had spent too much time thinking. He could've been running much faster, and the men now had too much of a head start on him. It was coming to an end- Lion had had a good life, he supposed. His wife and children would miss him, and he would miss them too, but there wasn't much left to do. Before he knew it, there was a stinging pain in the right side of his abdomen, and he fell to the ground as the men cheered of their victory. They had killed the Lion.

Later, the Lion awoke in a dark room, with metal bars instead of a fourth wall. Through those metal bars, he saw a long table with people sitting in chairs that surrounded it. No one spared him a look, so he tried to think of a reason he might be there. Was it a dream? Had Tiger fed him some poisoned berries as a joke?

Then he realized. As far as he knew, there was no Tiger anymore. The evil men had captured him and Lion. He watched longingly as a human in black and white clothing brought the table a platter. After a bit more talking, they all took sharp things and started eating. Lion watched, horrified. Is this what humans ate?

After a little more staring (in curiosity, of course), he buried his head in his paws and tried to sleep. But, only a few seconds after he did this, something tapped on his shoulder. He looked up and realized it was a human. He bared his teeth and tried to put his head down, but they put something to his mouth. It was cold, and not solid like the meat he ate back home.

“I know this must be unpleasant, and I can make it all go away,” they whispered, darting their eyes around to make sure no one was watching. “If you want to drink this, you can go to the stars, and all your worries will be gone. But if not- and trust me, I know what I'm talking about- your life won't be happy.”

All the Lion heard was ‘make it all go away’. He soundlessly pushed the vial up to his lips, and before he knew it, everything from before was gone. He now looked down at the world while they looked up at him with wonder.

11/4/23
Personally I don't have a favorite constellation, so I decided to write about the stars in general. I hope that this counts!

Oak walked through the forest, looking for water to clean himself after hunting. It'd be hard to find once he left the forest. Soon enough he tracked down a river, scrubbing the fur on his arms. He saw the reflection of the moon in the water beneath him. The water was cold, but not freezing. He'd have to collect some tomorrow night, since it looked clean enough to drink. He washed off his arms and stood, looking at the trees around him. The night was quiet, and would remain so. He turned towards the distant desert. His current home. Sometimes it felt like home, sometimes it didn't, but it was where he lived now. He exited the lush jungle into the desert sands, hoping that the wind wouldn't kick up too much. The sky was clear and the moon was half full, surrounded by stars. He stepped past dunes and desert plants, taking in the cold dry air. He wouldn't live with the hunters forever. Someday he'd save up enough to start fresh. Buy a home. Settle down.
He looked forward to seeing his sister again. He hoped she was well. Leaving her had hurt her, he knew as much. But he was used to surviving on his own, and didn't know how to function well with others. He didn't want to make a mistake with the balance of the universe at stake. He was worried that if he did something wrong, Cherry and Iris would get upset, or start fighting, and if things escalated it could mean the end of everything. He couldn't live with that pressure. That's why he was here. To get enough money to start new, and to practice being with others. Once he'd done that, he could find his sister, and his friend, and start living a life worth living.
He looked up at the moon, and the stars. Were they seeing those stars too? Could they see his reflection in the beautiful white light? Could he see theirs? He liked to think someone was watching him. It didn't matter if that thing was friend or foe, if it meant he wasn't alone. Being out in the moonlight gave him time to think, but mostly to feel. He didn't get to do that much anymore. But the moment of quiet helped a lot.
Yes, he'd see his friends again soon. He'd come to love spending his days with them. Someday…
Someday…

Word Count: 406

11.4.23 - Orion origin story

Long ago, before stars glittered in the night sky and the heavens above were just an empty canvas of endless space, a boy named Rion walked the earth. He was small but ambitious, and had dreams to one day become a gladiator. It all began when his father took him to a gladiator match.
Rion leaned forward, inching above the head of golden hair in front of him to see the match. There were two men, both bloodied and bruised, wielding swords and shields. They struck each other over and over again, cheers of their names echoing through the crowd. Rion winced, watching as the tall, chiseled gladiator struck a hit on the smaller one.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Rion asked, turning to his father, who had an eager smile on his face. He scoffed.
“Don’t you understand, Rion? It doesn’t matter if it hurts, they do it for the fame, the money!” His father laughed, turning back to the match, where the bigger man stood over the crumpled body of the smaller man. Rion bit his lip.
The moment his father had told him gladiators became rich and famous, Rion was set on it. His family, a large, peasant family living on the outskirts of Rome, needed him. Even as a little boy, Rion knew his purpose was to become a gladiator and live out the dreams of his father, bring his family the fortune they deserved. So, at a young age, he put on a brave face and began to train.
Training was not easy. Rion’s limbs were constantly sore, so sore he could barely focus while he was working with his father. He had cuts on his knuckles from the trees he trained with and scrapes on his face from losing his footing. He didn’t have time to play with the other town children because he always had training to get to. If Rion was anything, he was determined. Finally, at the age of sixteen, a wealthy nobleman walking through the town noticed him.
Rion was hitting the tree, hard. His fists screamed in pain, and he doubled over, letting his arms dangle from his body.
“Hey, boy, what’re you doing?” Rion looked up, facing a man dressed in fancy red robes with a trimmed beard.
“Training,” Rion huffed, out of breath. The man cocked his head. “I’m going to be a gladiator,” Rion stated with utmost confidence, “One day, I will be.”
The man smiled.
“Let me take you to Rome,” he said.
Rion’s fate was determined. The minute he made it to Rome, people saw the talent harbored in the young boy. So, he began to compete.
While nervous at first, Rion quickly rose to the top and became famous for brutally destroying his opponents. Each match yielded a sum of money, three-quarters of it always sent back home to his family.
One particular day, Rion was slotted for a tough battle. Decius, a budding gladiator, had arrived in Rome with one request: to fight Rion. Rion was cocky, though, and simply dressed in a chestplate and picked out his dullest sword.
When the match began, Rion knew he would find success. He made quick sweeps at Decius’ legs, knocking him off balance. Rion chuckled. For the first hour, the match seemed like child’s play to Rion. Each time he would attack Decius, the boy would fall backwards and struggle to get to his feet. Until the second hour.
Rion struck Decius’ chestplate with his sword slightly harder than intended, sending Decius flying backwards. Decius grumbled, climbing to his feet. He swung his sword back as far as it could go, and with immense strength, struck Rion right across the midriff.
The counter attack took Rion by surprise. He tried to get to his feet, but failed, allowing Decius to strike his face. This continued, until Decius pulled off an impressive blow to the cheek, literally sending Rion flying. Rion, now frightened, seemed to fly into oblivion from Decius’ punch until he reached the darkness of the night sky. There, right where he had “landed” was a trail of stars.
“Oh my god!” One man exclaimed. Gasps were heard throughout the arena. The announcer, a short, blonde man, looked to the sky, noticing the scattered, glimmering stars.
“Oh,” he whispered, “it’s Rion.”

Word Count: 722 (I just had too much fun writing this haha)

daily!

I should have been a Gryffindor. I always knew that. Even the Sorting Hat told me that. But eleven year old me was too naive and obedient to realize there were more important things in this world than making my parents happy. So I resisted. I denied who I was and I told the Hat, “No.”
He tried to talk me out of it. He listed off traits of Gryffindors, and it was basically a comprehensive description of my personality. He told me of all the friends I’d make in Gryffindor. How much I’d love them, how much they’d love me. They’d challenge me and keep me in check at the same time, and I’d do the same for them. That’s why, the Hat said, Gryffindors work well together. Because we — they — balance each other out. But most of all, the Hat tried very hard to convince me I’d never be happy as a Slytherin.
I believed him. I told him I didn’t care.
Reluctantly, he put me in Slytherin.

I could argue that it was my parent’s fault, really. Who my brother Sirius became, who I became, I could blame them for it. Or thank them. You see, my whole family is really into astronomy and astrology. They believe stars, constellations, galaxies, all have meanings, powers, and affects on people. And yet they named my brother, Sirius. And they named me, Regulus. As traditional and expected, both are related to astronomy. Both star systems, in this case.
Sirius is known as “the scorcher”, “the dog star,” “the wolf star,” “the mighty star”, and even “Loki’s torch”. And despite this name they expected him to be a good heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. They expected him not to be a prankster. They expected loyalty to family before friends. And worst of all, they expected him not to be a fighter. With a name like that, were these expectations even possible?
My name is even worse. Regulus means “little king”. Which would make sense, except that Sirius was the heir. Maybe my parents always knew, somehow, that things wouldn’t work out that way. It gets worse though. Regulus is the brightest object in the constellation Leo. The Lion. The Arabic term for Regulus even means “the heart of the lion”. The one meaning my brother and I have in common is “mighty”.

With all this in mind, maybe Sirius and I were meant to run away from home, join the fight against Voldemort. Maybe the very names our parents chose for us set us down the path of our destiny.