W̗̰͉̺̝̱̞̉͡e̻̤͚̰̺̬͙̪̓̂̍̋̀ḷ̸̳̻͖͉̰͗̆ͫc̡̣̼͔ͪ̂ͯͮo̢̲͇̩̦ͩ̋m̤̪̝͍̞̣̅͞ė̩̩̩̤̪̎͡ ̪̝̠̹̠̰ͨ͑̉̀ͅt̫͇̹̯͎͚̳͍͑̐̀ǫ̮̯̝̠͆ ̦͖̉̅̓̉͝Dͨ̍̚҉̭̱̝̱̯̝a̤̳͎̣̎ͬ̾̚͠t̟̥̫͎̱̗̝̾ͥ̋̀a̵̭̰̲̟̳̦̮͖̟̜͇̿̐̂̉̔͟'̝̬̳̥͍ͨ͜ͅs͈̠̝̗̓͗͂̉͠ ̶̟̳̔̾W̧̝͈͖͚̲̠̟͍͌r̶͈̪͂̓͋ȉ̅͏̬̞̗̙͈̬t͍̩͖̝̥̣͈ͪ̈́ͥ̅͞i̡̟̞̙̥̎n̶͍̫͓̙͍̻̎̌ͅg̸̦͔͛̽̄͂ ͓̻͍̎̓ͨ͡D̳̫̗̬͕̩ͭ͡a̭͇̣͕̪͈͛̍̏͟ͅt̳̖̍͗͠a̸̳̤̫̖̽̑͗b̷͚̜̫̘͍̤͆ͬͅa͎̯̥̝̗͎̫̟̅͛ͦ̊̀ṣ͔̭̗͈̜͓͋͘ê͈͍̳̻̯͊̚͟.͎̭͍̱̗͉̲̤͗ͫ͑̂͘ ̷̬̠̟̭̎̓P̢̼̫͔̗͙̻̣̭ͦͥ̋r̗̼̙̱̻̖ͥ̉́o̠͓̗͔͊̈̎͠c̶̖̙̪̮̗̥͚̈́̑̇͑e̸̦̙ͩ͛ë̙͕͍̺̙́̽͑̚͡d̛̗̩̑ ̛̳̳͔̲͓̳̗̇̀w̗̤̙̯̗͂̃́͝ͅī̸̬ͨͅṯ͚͉̘̺̗̜̔̏̾̏͡h̵͕̟̺͓̽͊̍ ̯̫̫͉̥̭̣ͮͦ͟c̗̭̦̗͓̾̏͆͡a̧͖̱̮͚͈̞̺̦͒͐ͪ͗űͬ҉͎̜̙̜̮̬̬ṫ̻̮̖͠i̺̹̣̰̩͙̖ͭͬ̕ő͏̦͓̳͈͈n͐ͫ̐҉̹̮̞̩̳̝.͎̭͍̱̗͉̲̤͗ͫ͑̂͘
̶̡̛̱̭̳͇̞̖̣̪̿̌̾̋̎̈́͌̒͝


A broken mind,
A haunted soul;
All shadows of
The past.
The stirring ghost
Of what once was
Is set free
At last.

-Data

Total Word Count: 2,259

• 3/2/24

• SWC Daily: Use a compliment as a focal point in your story.

• Word Count: 414

I threw my drawing against the wall in frustration and scowled. I never seem to get things right! Even trying my hardest, nothing ever ends up the way I picture it.
I reached across my desk to retrieve the paper, smoothing out the crumpled portions. Examining every detail, I tried to figure out what made the sketch just look so… wrong.
“Nice drawing! What is it?” asked a familiar voice.
I jumped. “Don't scare me like that!” I shouted, covering the paper with my arms.
My brother laughed. “It's so fun, though!”
“Not for me it isn't,” I grumbled.
“You didn't answer my question. What is it?” he asked again.
I stuffed the paper in a drawer. “Nothing,” I told him.
“Come on, let me see! I saw you chucking your paper across the room and figured I might be able to help you,” he said. "Besides, I was taught by a professional–“
”There's no need to remind me for the thousandth time, Thomas,“ I groaned. He took a two-week art course over the summer, and has been bragging about it ever since. It's incredibly irritating. Nevertheless, I opened the drawer and handed him my sketch.
”Hmmm… It's actually better than I thought,“ he admitted. I rolled my eyes. ”I love the mysterious/spooky vibe! But—“ He pointed to the crudely drawn tree on the paper. ”This tree doesn't match the mood. The rest of the drawing is—as I said—mysterious and spooky. The forest looks haunted. This tree is the focus of the drawing, right?“ I nodded. ”Then you need to make it match the rest of the forest—spooky and haunting, and slightly mysterious.“ He smiled at me. ”Did that help?“ he asked.
”Surprisingly, it did!“ I told him. ”Thank you,“ I added.
”No problem. You'd better get to work, then,“ he said. ”You still have to finish your homework, don't you?“
”Yes,“ I groaned.
”Mom and Dad are going to be so mad!“ he teased. ”That's not my problem, though. Good luck on that drawing,“ he said, gesturing towards my wrinkled paper. ”You're going to need it.“ He walked out of the room.
I moved my pencil across the paper, ignoring his words. It was all starting to come together now! I gave the tree's gnarled trunk some shadows, and shaded the leaves. I twisted its roots, and gave it a slight lean. When I was finished, I picked it up and took a good, long, look at it.
”It's perfect," I whispered.

• 3/3/24

• SWC Daily: Write a national anthem for 1-4 Cabins.

• Word Count: 420

Sci-Fi Cabin Anthem

You walk down the hallway
On cold, concrete floor
Reach the server room
And open the door

Raw data is flashing
before your eyes
The world is being
overrun by AI

A person grabs you and
brings you out of harm's way
They shake your hand
“I'm Zion,” they say

There are two others
Named Finley and CD
They're sorry to inform you
There's something you must see

The database is chaos
The AI's in control
They're trying to stop it
Because the world's in peril

They want you to join them
And to give them your trust
And so they ask you
“Will you help us?”

Word Count: 107

Tragedy Cabin Anthem

Believe nothing you hear
Half of what you see
For this is the cabin
Of Tragedy

Taken to the woods
So far away
Taken from home
And left astray

Trust no one
And nothing you hear
Or you will face
Your greatest fears

Believe nothing you hear
Half of what you see
For this is the cabin
Of Tragedy

Chosen to be
A sacrifice
Before you take action
You need to think twice

Taken to the woods
So far away
Taken from home
And left astray

Believe nothing you hear
Half of what you see
For this is the cabin
Of Tragedy

Word Count: 102

Dystopian Cabin Anthem

The ancient ruins
That tower so high
So magnificent that
You can’t believe your eyes

Explore the unknown
But tread carefully
This is where we’ll build
A new society

Away from the unjust
Dystopian world
We will watch as
Our new world unfurls

Explore the ruins
But watch your way
It only get harder
Day by day

The ancient ruins
That tower so high
So magnificent that
You can’t believe your eyes

Explore the unknown
But tread carefully
Nothing you find here
Is as it seems

Word Count: 100

Utopian (TCTWNW) Cabin Anthem

Look up at the sky
At the stars shining bright
No worries or fears
Will bother you tonight

A perfect moon
A perfect sun
A perfect world
For everyone

The Starlands utopia
Where all is right
In a vast sea of dark
It’s a pinprick of light

Look up at the sky
At the stars shining free
Little specks of light
As far as eye can see

A perfect moon
A perfect sun
A perfect world
For everyone

Look up at the night
Beautiful and clear
It’s quiet and bright
And perfect here

Look up at the sky
At the stars shining bright
You see one star
Flicker out of sight

Word Count: 111

Daily for 3/4/24
Word count: 678

Astria walked down the alley, clutching her binder to her chest. She tried to avoid dark places as much as possible, but this was the only route back home that didn’t require trudging through the muddy forest.
Ignore the whispers, she thought as the noise started filling her head. The shadows seemed to beckon her forward, almost as though they were reaching towards her. Come closer, they hissed, just a wisp in the wind. They were barely noticeable, but there nonetheless. Patience. Faith. Trust, they said.
“Please stop,” she pleaded. Those were the same words she told them every day. Nothing ever changed—if anything, their whispers only increased in urgency. Believe! Confidence! Trust! they told her, each harsh voice like a needle in her head. As Albert Enstein once said, ‘Insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.’ Well, I guess that proves I’m insane.
Astria sprinted towards the end of the alley, her heart pounding in her ears. The shadows persisted, looming ever closer. Confidence! Trust! Faith! Patience! they chanted.
“Stop!” she yelled, tears burning in her eyes. She ran as hard as she could, her only conscious thought to reach the end of the alley. Perseverance! Patience! Believe! Trust! Astria squeezed her eyes shut, not caring if she knocked herself out running into a wall. At least then, the voices would stop.
It was like the universe was reading her mind. Just then, she ran into something. Or rather, someone. “Hey—watch where you’re going!” a sharp voice exclaimed.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said. “Are you okay?” Careful! Stranger! Caution! the shadows told her.
“For the most part,” the voice said. “You really have to watch where you’re going, though—hey, why are your eyes closed?”
“I—um—” She slowly opened her eyes. A blond boy stood in front of her, wearing a dark blue hoodie and jeans. He had flecked green eyes—and surprisingly, he didn’t look the least bit angry.
Stranger! Caution! Alert! Careful! Each voice was like a stab in the back of her skull, with each one being increasingly painful. Astria clutched her head and groaned. She stumbled back a step—she would’ve fallen if the boy hadn’t caught her.
“Hey, are you okay?” the boy asked, grabbing her arm. Astria couldn’t speak. She couldn’t do much of anything, really. Careful! Caution! Danger! Danger! Danger! they screeched in her ears. She groaned again, and her legs gave out.
“Okay, I’m taking you to a hospital. There’s got to be one around here somewhere…” She thought she felt him lift her up, but she couldn’t really tell. She couldn’t see—everything was a hazy. Danger! Danger! Danger! Danger! the shadows warned.
Suddenly, the voices faded. She opened her eyes—she hadn’t even realized they were closed in the first place. The boy carried her in his arms, and was running towards the town hospital a few blocks away.
She took a deep breath. “I’m fine now,” she told him.
He jumped. “Oh!—um—okay,” he said uncertainly as he carefully set her down. “I didn’t realized you were awake. Are you sure?”
“Yeah—I’m feeling a lot better now,” she said. “Thanks,” she added.
“No problem—and if you don’t mind me asking,” he said, “what was that?”
“I—” Astria couldn’t bring herself to reveal her secret—not after keeping it for so long. She had been hearing shadows since she was little. The one person she had told—her first grade teacher—laughed and said she had a lively imagination. After that, she didn’t trust anyone enough to tell them her secret.
He laughed. “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. Just be careful, okay? I’m Mike, by the way.” He extended a hand.
Astria shook it. “I’m Astria. And, um… you wouldn’t understand,” she decided.
“Wait… What do you mean?”
“You can’t—well, it’s hard to explain. You can’t hear the noise.” Oh no, she thought. She’d said too much—he must think she was insane. But his reaction was the last thing she expected.
His eyes widened as he sucked in a breath. “You—you can hear it too?”

• Daily for 3/5/24
  

• Write a continuation of a chapter in a book
  

• SWC Daily
  

***All credit goes to Shannon Messenger for the series Keeper of the Lost Cities! I merely wrote a continuation of a chapter (Chapter 2, if you want the specifics). So thank you Shannon Messenger for the characters, who I hope I managed to reflect the personalities of.

“So… what?” Sophie managed to say when she was able to speak. “What am I? An alien? Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Fitz burst into laughter.
“No, not at all!” he managed to say, then burst out laughing again.
“Okay, what’s so funny here? You’re the one telling me I’m not human. So what am I, then?” Sophie pressed.
His answer was the last thing she expected.
Fitz turned towards her after he managed to stop laughing, and his face turned serious. “You’re an elf,” he told her.
This time it was Sophie’s turn to laugh. She snorted as images of little people in tights filled her head. And when she envisioned them making cookies in Santa’s workshop, she only laughed harder.
“You don’t believe me, do you,” Fitz sighed as he ran a hand through his air. It seemed to be a habit of his. “I guess I should’ve expected that.”
“Well, how am I supposed to believe you? What you just said is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard. Are you telling me I should be making toys in the North Pole?” she replied. “If you really expect me to believe you, you have to provide proof! Which I’m sure you don’t have,” she added.
He thought for a moment. “Well,” he said. “I actually do… But I’m not allowed to tell you.”
Sophie stared at him. “So, you tell me I’m an elf, insist that I believe you, and then tell me you can’t prove it?”
Fitz’s face turned sour. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Exactly.”
“But I’m under specific orders. I can’t show you anything.”
“I’ll be on my way then,” Sophie said as she turned to leave.

Word Count: 288

• Daily for 3/6/24
  Create a new genre (I'll tell you what the genre is at the end :) )
  SWC Daily
  

I look down from high in the sky, wind whipping my clothes. I hug the branch I’m holding on to like my life depended on it—which it very well did. You might be wondering what is happening—and to be honest? I have no idea.
I kind of just appeared here. I look around; I seem to be in a tree. A very, very high tree. When I look down, I can’t see anything but more branches and the clouds. Oddly enough, the tree’s branches don’t have leaves. Or do they? I can’t really tell. Everything is shifting in and out of focus; nothing remains the same for more than a few seconds.
I call up to my companions higher in the tree. Huh. I don’t remember them being here. I see three people—my friends, Hannah and Max, as well as someone else… Wait, what?! That’s Peeta from the Hunger Games? What is he doing here? Quite peculiar… “Just follow me!” I told them.
I hopped from branch to branch, even though they were several feet apart. Miraculously, I didn’t fall. I look down again. A choking feeling rose in my chest. What is that? Nervousness? Anxiety? Excitement? Ahh. Fear. Being this high up is frightening—knowing that one wrong move could be the end.
I make it to the bottom. I see my small group make it down as well, but… Someone was missing. Hannah! Where did she go? I’m filled with a great sense of dread. Where was she? Oh no… It couldn’t be…
I sank to the ground as the truth hit me. She was gone.
“Hi! Aren’t you guys going to come help me?”
Huh? Hannah? How? What—It doesn’t matter. She’s alive!
“Wait. Help with what?” I asked. I’m really confused now.
“Yeah! Don’t you know? We’re looking for giant hidden easter eggs! It’s Easter!”
Whaaaaaaa… Okay. I really have no idea what’s going on, but I decide to go along with it.
“Yes. Lets start by looking in the woods over there!” suggested Peeta. I forgot he was here.
We walk to the woods, where we meet another team. “You can’t steal what we already found!” one of the members exclaimed.
We end up getting into a huge argument about it. This is insane. It is so absurd that I would think I’m dreaming if I didn’t know better…
Wait…
The pieces clicked together.
I’m in a dream.
As soon as the realization hit, I felt myself being lifted out of my dream and into reality.
I woke in my bed, thinking about how absurd the dream was when I fell back asleep…
The genre is…
Drumroll, please…
Dream-Fiction! (That was probably pretty obvious XD)
Word count: 436

Word War!!!
This is probably the lamest thing I have ever written. Please don't judge me for it XD
Word count: 142
If my life was a movie, I wouldn’t be the main character. If my life was a movie, I would be that one guy you see once. That one guy that has one line. Why? Well, for so many reasons. The main character usually suffers traumatic events—and not just one! To have a good movie, there needs to be an exposition, inciting incident, climax, and resolution. And most importantly, you have to have a problem the protagonist needs to solve. Most movies have happy endings. But are they really happy? What if your best friend dies along the way? What if you lose someone you were close to? What if you are forced to flee from your home? I definitely wouldn’t want to be that main character. Which is why I would be that one guy. That guy that has one line.

Word War!!!
I made some grammar edits and spelling corrections, but none of them changed my total word count. Word count: 147
In the presence of ghosts, there was only one thing to do… Or so it seemed. I still regret my actions on that very day—and my actions—my actions—had cost a life. An innocent life. If I had taken the time to consider the second possibility, my dearest friend may have survived that traumatic day… I always tell myself: I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t have done anything to change the fact that my best friend is here no more. I couldn’t have done anything to prevent that from happening. But what if? What if there was something I could have done? Something I could have done, so that I don’t have to live with the guilt every waking second, and have that day haunt my dreams? Was there anything—anything—that I could have done to save my friend? No. There couldn’t have been. But was there? I’ll

Daily 3-8-24

Oh dear Shannon Messenger,
How do I thank thee?
For writing such great books
That entertain me?

Through times of sorrow
And times of pain,
It is your books
That keep me sane.

Oh dear Shannon Messenger,
So mighty and great;
Your style of writing
None can imitate.

Your books are perfect,
And not anything less;
Your books will never
Fail to impress.

Oh dear Shannon Messenger
You’re so inspirational;
Such a talented mind
Forever admirable.

When you write,
Your words flow on the page;
What is your secret
To keep readers engaged?

Oh dear Shannon Messenger,
Talented and strong;
Whenever you write,
Nothing can go wrong.

I’m so glued to your books
With the action-packed plot
That I don’t go to sleep
More often than not

Your books make me laugh
Your books make me smile
Your books bring me joy
With your unique writing style

Oh dear Shannon Messenger
I’ll forever be your fan
Your books make me happy
When no one else can

I don’t know how
You write what you do
With unique ideas
Just out of the blue

Whenever you write
You put others to shame
Your well-written books
Make others seem lame

Oh dear Shannon Messenger,
How do I thank thee?
You are my hero
And always will be

Here's the link to the Part 3 Aesthetics Set: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/984342729

Weekly #2 SWC Total Word Count: 1715
Flower Symbolization Word count: 349
Marielle tapped the end of her pencil on her paper, trying to come up with an idea. She had only one day left complete her ELA assignment—a short story—and she still had no idea where to begin.
Marielle stared out the window, thinking of all the things she still had to do. She still had to complete her math homework, read a chapter in her history textbook, practice her clarinet, eat dinner, shower, and write a story—and that wasn’t even including her chores. Worse yet, she had to do all this in three hours. That wasn’t enough time to do even half of these things!
She felt tears well in her eyes. There was so much to do, and so little time to do it. Would her parents be angry if she gets a bad grade? Would they be disapproving? Or worse yet…
Would they be disappointed?
Marielle was filled with an overwhelming, drowning sensation. She blinked her tears away and concentrated on her paper. Her blank, empty paper. What was she going to do? Time was ticking away.
Marielle glanced out the window. She saw her yard, with its overgrown grass. She saw her garden, desperately needing to be weeded. She saw the random junk scattered throughout the lawn. But it wasn’t any of those things that caught her eye.
In the midst of it all, she saw a single iris flower. It grew in the middle of all the chaos. Its azure blue petals were truly captivating, and Marielle found herself unable to look away. Why did this single flower seem so catch her eye, and not anything else around it?
It hit her then. That single iris—thriving in spite of the complex and chaotic world around it—reminded Marielle of herself; it stood alone.
Marielle felt a tear slide down her face. Wow. Was she really getting emotional over a plant? That must prove her sanity was starting to slip away.
Marielle steeled herself and began to write on her paper. If a flower could find its way in this vast, unforgiving world, perhaps Marielle could too.

Constellation Story Word count: 317
Long, long ago, on this very planet, lived two peculiar beings. At first glance, they seemed to be no different from the rest of the inhabitants of our beloved planet Earth. But these two beings just so happened to change the world.
There once lived a pair of lively ravens, named Nox (n-ah-x) and Lux (l-ooh-x). They were a happy couple; both had an understanding of the other that no one today could even begin to comprehend.
Nox was an enthusiastic raven. With his shining violet eyes and big personality, he practically radiated positivity.
Lux, on the other hand, was slightly more relaxed. Her eyes were observant, never missing any detail. She was well known for her curiosity, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.
In this perfect utopia they lived in, nothing was ever out of place. Or so it seemed.
Nox and Lux were a happy couple; but both knew that this utopia they lived in was not, in fact, a utopia. There was no variety, no diversity. Some may find comfort in a repetitive routine; but others? Perhaps not.
Nox and Lux were restless. They performed the same tasks, ate the same food, lived the same boring life; with no variety whatsoever. Both knew this, yet did not know what they could do about it.
Eventually, Nox and Lux came to an agreement. Somehow, they knew exactly what must be done.
Nox and Lux flew high above the sky, beyond the point of no return.
The earth began to spin and revolve around the Sun. It developed its signature tilt. From that point onward, there was day and night, and spring and fall. Seasons and days were created, and time began.
No one knows what became of Nox and Lux. But it is known that ever since that moment, five new stars have joined the sky. Those stars created the constellation of Tempus, the hourglass.




SWC Fan Fiction Word Count: 1049

Gurtle trudged through the swamp, ignoring the cold in his legs. He had been walking for hours upon end, searching for a perfect place to call home. He had walked far and wide, from deserts to tropical rainforests; yet he still had not found a place he would be willing to live.
A flash of light caught Gurtle’s eye. What was that? He could see a patch of shimmering… air? How was that possible?
He cautiously approached it. As he drawed closer, he could feel a pull of some sort; it was a feeling that he couldn’t quite place. He decided he had had enough, and tried to pull away. The light pulled him closer still. Don’t resist, it whispered.
Gurtle realized that this was a portal. But… portals don’t exist. So how could he be seeing one right now? Gurtle thrashed and flailed, trying to escape the pull of the light. He failed miserably.
He tried his very best to pull away, but it was not enough. The portal pulled him ever closer, until he was enveloped in its glimmering embrace. He fought harder still. He gave one last push to escape, but it was no use. Gurtle plunged into the portal’s icy depths.
After what felt like hours (it was actually a few seconds, Gurtle was exaggerating), the portal released him.
He stumbled away from where he assumed the portal just was, trying to catch his breath. All that fighting really drained Gurtle’s energy—not that he had much to start with. Gurtle was what some would call a couch potato—he could hardly do one sit-up without having to take a break.
Gurtle looked around. He was in a vast field, wind rippling the grass. Vines of all kinds covered the ground. In the field stood tall glass buildings, their sides glinting in the sun. It was a beautiful and vibrant sight.
Suddenly, Gurtle felt himself being sucked through time and space, entering another dimension entirely. Gurtle found himself standing in the middle of the dark woods.
He was sucked in again.
And again.
And again.
Each time, he appeared in a place different from any of the previous ones. He saw everything there was to see; from undelivered letters to corrupted databases, from eerie woods to vast ruins. At last, he found himself standing under a magnificent starry sky.
Gurtle wondered why his back felt tingly. And why did the world suddenly feel so cold? He shivered. Then Gurtle felt the soft star light hit his shell, and suddenly, he felt… warm. What was happening to him?
Unbeknownst to Gurtle, he was undergoing an extraordinary transformation. Gurtle noticed that his shell was increasing in temperature—it was almost uncomfortably hot. After a few seconds, it felt like his shell was on fire.
Gurtle thrashed and flailed, rolling on the ground in an attempt to soothe his burning shell. He had no idea what was going on—his only conscious thought was stop the pain.
Gurtle saw a pond out of the corner of his eye, and stumbled towards it. After what felt like hours, he made it to the pond. He collapsed in the cool, refreshing water, relief flooding through him when it eased the pain in his shell.
As Gurtle lay there in the water, he realized how exhausted he was. His eyelids fluttered closed. I’ll just take a little nap, he told himself as a fell asleep. And so the transformation began.
From his shell sprouted a beautiful flower, its petals a beautiful amber gold. Its leaves unfurled from the flower’s stem, fading to a slightly darker green at the tips. It swayed in the gentle breeze. Gurtle would be changed forever.
Gurtle awoke to a pair of eyes staring at him. He yelped and scrambled away.
“Sorry—I didn’t mean to startle you,” the person said. “I’m Nova.”
Gurtle studied the person. She had long, braided black hair and brown skin. Gurtle was debating whether or not to trust her—she seemed friendly enough, so he decided that he could.
Gurtle waddled up to her and stretched out on the ground, deciding to take a nap.
Nova laughed. “You’re funny,” she said as she reached out to pet him. She leaned in to get a closer look at the flower on Gurtle’s shell. “Whoa,” she said. “What’s that?”
Gurtle was confused. Then he remembered the incident with his shell. He awkwardly lifted a leg to pat the top of his shell, and—
Wait. Where was his shell?
Gurtle freaked out, running around in circles. Well, the best a turtle could run. It was more like scooting.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Nova asked. She seemed genuinely concerned.
Gurtle continued his frantic scooting.
Nova scooped him up in her arms. “I’m going to show you to the SWC leaders and see what they think of you.”
Nova started walking towards… somehwere. Gurtle didn’t really care. He decided to solve his shell problem another time, and comfortably lay in Nova’s arms. Gurtle, being the silly turtle that he was, promptly fell asleep.
Gurtle woke up again. Can’t I ever get any sleep? he wondered. In truth, Gurtle spends half the day sleeping, and the other half laying down trying to sleep.
“You’re finally awake!” Nova exclaimed! “As I was saying—we should make him our mascot!” Gurtle was on a table with a whole lot of people standing around him. They were very friendly and kind—but through Gurtle’s eyes, they were very, very scary and intimidating.
Gurtle tried to hide under his shell—and then remembered that he didn’t have one. This only increased his panicked fright. He resumed his panicked scooting.
“Hey, calm down!” someone said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Gurtle was fascinated by this person. They looked nice, so he stopped scooting around and walked up to them.
“I’m Clev,” they said. Gurtle looked at them some more.
Someone reached out to pet him. “Hi there, little guy!” she said. Gurtle lay on the table, trying (again) to take a nap.
“That’s Nidi,” said Clev.
Gurtle decided that these people were his friends.
“We should definitely make him our mascot,” someone declared. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.
“What should we name him?” said Nidi.
There was a lot of arguing and bickering—but in the end, everyone agreed on Gurtle.