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#276 2013-05-01 23:56:13

Waffle27
Scratcher
Registered: 2012-03-21
Posts: 1000+

Re: Write to DEATH - A challenging competition for avid writers

I still haven't started, and I have no ideas.

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#277 2013-05-02 19:28:47

Waffle27
Scratcher
Registered: 2012-03-21
Posts: 1000+

Re: Write to DEATH - A challenging competition for avid writers

A bit of inspiration has come! Don't know whether I'll keep it or not, but here's the first part:

The dog’s drooling jaws hovered inches above my neck, poised and ready to bite. One snap and my neck would be broken by his powerful chompers. His painted coat rippled, tight against compact muscles as he growled threateningly. Obviously, I had wandered into the wrong territory: his territory.
    “Back off!” I sighed in relief as his pack mate barked a warning, taking a step closer to both me and the dog.
    “Yeah, Nayo let the pup go! As if it eats any of the prey anyway!” barked another Painted Dog.
    “But it’s food! We haven’t eaten for days!”
    “Oh, relax! The No-Furs will bring us something before too awfully long.” The first pack mate, Mayi, rolled her eyes.
    Nayo hesitated, then lifted his paw from my chest. “Fine,” he grumbled. But let’s hope that the No-Furs bring some fresh meat this time, instead of the usual frozen slabs!”
    As I scampered to my paws, I heard a slow creaking, then a thud. The No-Furs, with our prey! By the sound of it, it was something big, and tasty. I licked my lips with anticipation.
    In front, backpedaling quickly was the No-Fur who normally fed us. He had a bit of fur on his face, right below the petty No-Fur excuse for a nose. Other than the little island of black fur, he lived up to the No-Fur name.
    “What have you brought us today?” Bazi, the second pack mate, cried impatiently. The No-Fur let out a loud, rapid huffing sound before pulling out desired food all the way out of the hole in the wall.
    Behold, a stale, frozen slab of meat.

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#278 2013-05-05 00:22:57

Waffle27
Scratcher
Registered: 2012-03-21
Posts: 1000+

Re: Write to DEATH - A challenging competition for avid writers

w00t, 711 words, lol  tongue 
But a much better begining, if anyone wants to hear it.

The cool night was dark and quiet. Only my slight pants broke the sound of nothingness. My toes scrabbled for a grip on the slippery rock, and once I almost fell completely. Rushing water joined my wheezes and I turned to see a small waterfall lining the side, tumbling down the hill.
    Cooling my tired feet in the water, I glanced around. Movement. Somewhere, somewhere close. I could’ve sworn that I heard movement!
    My breaths came out in ragged gasps as I ran away. Jaws closed around the pocket of air where my poor tail used to be. My paws pounded against solid stone, and my nose sniffed at the air. What was it? Who could have scented me, when I had been so careful? Desperate measures had been put through; I had even rolled in the only small mint patch in the territory.
    Of course, the mint patches. My scent had led up to it, and then they had followed the stench of mint to my current location. I cursed under my breath and whipped around, baring slimy white teeth, dripping with saliva. My tongue flicked over them quickly, clearing the texture in order to make room for juicy meat.
    “Come on out!” I called tauntingly, my tail flipped back and forth, waving in the crisp midnight air. “You want to fight, you got a fight!”
    No response. Relaxing, I turned back in the direction of the food. Some sort of smell, no matter how rotten, was filling my nostrils and I intended to find out what it was. Of course, I already had a suspicion: food. Meat. Precious meat. We didn’t get nearly enough of it here, in this place, and what we did receive was stale and frozen slabs.
    Being a carnivore, my thick pink tongue longed to taste the delicious salty meat of a fresh gazelle. Even a small, scurrying rodent would do at this point. Any sort of meat that hadn’t been refrigerated for more than a week would taste like heaven right now.
    Suddenly, jaws snapped above my head. I screeched, ducking but retaliating with a swift blow to my victim’s head. Spatters of red rained onto the ground, but I could tell my blow hadn’t been awfully serious. If it had been, my foe would’ve screamed, or at least shown their face. This was my territory now; I had staked it as my own.
    Not that anybody here paid attention to the minor details such as those.
    “Stay away!” I growled, scratching naked air. Where was my enemy, where had they gone?
    A painful nip to my haunches answered my question. I whipped back again, but they had already sank back into the shadows. It was another of my type, obviously. But there were only three others in this place, which one was it?
    I tensed. Not…not Naya? No, it couldn’t be Naya, shouldn’t be. Why she would attack me I would never know. She was not an attacker in general, not even to those who hated her. There was only one who hated her: Bazi.

tongue  Am I the only one competing this round?

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