

Wanderer, Excerpt 3Kerwyn sprinted up the last flight of steps, passing the great bronze bells, which still reverberated from their dire invitation. Finally he saw his goal: the great oak doar to the outside. Bursting through it, he readied himself for another attack, though nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Erian stood, her hands held behind her back by a cloaked figure, the same as the others though more frightening and powerful. Against her throat he held a black, tarnished dagger, which he tightened as Kerwyn entered. As he did Erian whimpered, her bruised and bloodied face opening in a grimace as the tears continued to flow. WastWanderer, Excerpt 3


The Origin of the Mole-RatLegend tells of Mole, and his meetings with Coyote. Long ago, Mole came from the earth to get air, for the earth has not much air. But the air was hot, and water was not to be found. So it was that Mole traveled the surface searching for water. And it was that he came to the valley and met Coyote. Coyote did see Mole, and was amused, for Mole was a strange creature.The Origin of the Mole-Rat
Coyote said to Mole “what manner of beast are you, who walks with nose aloft?”
Mole replied to Coyote “I am Mole. I came from the earth to find air and water.”
Coyote was cunning, and sought to make fun with Mole, and so he said, “Water? Wate


Wanderer, Excerpt 2Kerwyn stumbled along, dragging his feet through the rough clods of the now ruined land. For three days he had been fighting now. Three whole days of absolute hell in this heat, getting no more sleep than an hour that he had dared in a shallow depression of the earth, camouflaging himself with the corpse of one of his fallen enemies, as macabre as that had been. Now it was night, and though he was glad for a relief from the murderous sun, the vision that it gave him made him feel much more confident. Now however, his vision swam no matter what time of day it was. The wounds covering his badoy crackled as their scabs broke open again and againWanderer, Excerpt 2


Wanderer, Prologue‘Treat him well, for to you he would do the same.’ Silently he scratched out the last word on the blood soaked parchment, turning his head to cough as more of the dark liquid flowed down the corners of his mouth. Through his fading, throbbing eyes, he read the line again, pondering those last words: ‘for to you he would do the same.’ Would it be true? He would never know, for his son was slipping away from him as quickly as was his life. A pain at his side made him flinch and he looked down to see a young woman tending to the deep gashes on his side. Wordlessly he pushed her away, silencing her protest with a raise of his hand. He shifted hisWanderer, Prologue
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The Others of Myself: ~Saturn848 & ~SaturnScribe
I never think about being "Grown Up" anymore. I can't per say "Act My Age" since I've never been this old before. So I just stay the same. Me ^_^
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Never underestimate the talent that is needed to be an idiot. unless you are born with the skill, you can never achieve it unless you have real dedication and the willingness to work for it/
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