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Post by Neon on Jun 16, 2010 2:23:27 GMT -5
It hasn't been that long. It's not dead, worry not. I just can't have a constant stream of updates is all.
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Post by LightHeart on Jun 16, 2010 17:50:24 GMT -5
I leave for a couple of measly weeks and You hit me with this! God,woman! Anyway this has me hanging off my couch. (I think I screamed when Qwerty got caught.) You must write more. Period. Or I shall send my doomy wrath upon you. :B
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Post by Amayasama on Jun 16, 2010 22:01:53 GMT -5
XD Wow guys...just relax, writing comes to everyone differently, let's not push her alright? ^^;
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Post by Neon on Jun 16, 2010 23:51:14 GMT -5
Thanks, Amaya. @_@;
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Post by whisperer on Jun 17, 2010 23:42:53 GMT -5
You asking if that was suspenseful would be like if someone asked if the Eiffel Tower was tall D: So yes! Very. Veryvery. Godspeed to Qwerty!
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Post by masquerade on Jun 22, 2010 1:52:16 GMT -5
1 reason tho think it's dead is becuase the last update was nearly a month ago now
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Post by Satal on Jun 22, 2010 17:50:26 GMT -5
Ok guys seriously? I wasn't gunna be a mod until now. Any posts claiming it is dead or pushing Neon to update will be erased after this warning post.
I personally hate being guilt tripped or pushed into writing. So doing it to Neon most likely isn't making her feel better.
And masqurade, she has been having comp issues for a month or so. She did not have the means to update. She is just getting back into the groove of things.
I love you all but let's not be rude to Neon. Ok? She has her own thing going.
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Post by Neon on Jun 22, 2010 21:01:04 GMT -5
I'm very glad you're enthusiastic about this story, y'all. It means I've done something right. And it's a very fun story to write ... I have a few chapters handwritten. Now I have the chance to type them up. But I never could have promised a regular update schedule, and never did. Besides juggling several stories, I've got real life to deal with too. So bear with me, okay? ^^;
In good faith, I bring to you another chapter.
V. Miscommunications
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the Varan looking down at Qwerty with curious orange eyes. Qwerty remained where he sat, conceding defeat. He looked up at the giant warily, but not with absolute fear. Yes, he was terrified, but he assumed that, if the Varan had wanted to eat him or something, it would have done so already. And it wouldn’t have spoken so kindly.
Still, Qwerty flinched when the giant shifted so his other arm was free. He started to slowly reach down towards the cornered Tinic. Qwerty flinched back from the approach of the monstrous hand. When it filled much of his vision, he lost his nerve and ducked down, covering his head with his arm. He gave a low, involuntary whimper.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” the Varan tried to comfort him. Qwerty didn’t look up, not until the giant actually touched him. He turned a startled gaze to the fingers that seemed to surround him. He grew tense as the giant used his thumb and first two fingers to lift him by the shoulders, keeping his arms partially pinned.
Qwerty kept his eyes on the ground as it slowly fell away. He was brought to the giant’s eye level where he lay atop the hill, nearly fifty feet in the air. Qwerty’s legs hung free and he breathed hard with apprehension.
“My God, you’re tiny.” The Varan commented. Qwerty’s heart fluttered with vertigo as the giant’s warm breath brushed past him. He continued to look down to the ground. He’d never thought he’d fear heights, but every second he worried that he’d go plummeting to his death.
The Varan finally seemed to sense Qwerty’s discomfort. He brought his other hand, which had previously been a barricade, up under Qwerty’s feet. He released his grip, and Qwerty fell to his hands and knees, sighing with relief.
“Are you alone, little guy?” the Varan asked, lifting his hand to try to look Qwerty in the eye.
Qwerty pushed himself up to sit back, to keep his eyes on the great face before him. He considered answering, but thought of his training and kept his mouth shut. Tinics learned from an early age that they were never to speak to a Varan should they be captured.
The Varan frowned for a moment. Then, he repeated his question in a slower, slightly louder voice, making Qwerty flinch. “Are … you … alone?” He seemed to think that Qwerty couldn’t understand.
Qwerty thought of his mother, his friends. They stayed safely hidden in the cellars back home. The Varan didn’t know about them. Qwerty nodded. The giant looked surprised. “It’s dangerous for a tiny person like you to be out in the wilderness like this.”
It was Qwerty’s turn to frown. He shook his head vigorously in reply, still resolutely silent. His giant captor chuckled.
The Varan shifted again, moving to sit up on the hill like he had before, and then from there he stood. He kept his hand very carefully steady, much to Qwerty’s surprise. Still, Qwerty drew closer to himself, his vision blurring with vertigo as he rose even higher in the air. He hugged his knees to his chest and shuddered involuntarily.
The Varan knelt to pick up his jacket slowly, slipping his free arm into its sleeve. Then, with little warning, he rolled Qwerty onto this hand as it emerged from the sleeve. As he put on the other sleeve, Qwerty righted himself and sat up, looking in confusion up at the giant face.
When he noticed Qwerty looking, the Varan spoke. “I must return home. But …” he hesitated. Qwerty noticed with a flutter of his heart that the giant fingers curled over him slightly. “I wouldn’t feel right leaving a defenseless little creature out in the desert …” He lapsed into thought, but what he’d said was more than enough to scare Qwerty. He knew where this would go.
The giant turned to walk around the hill, kneeling to scoop up the crushed bicycle from where it had landed. Qwerty steadied himself by crouching low in the giant palm. The motion caused a healthy sway, though the Varan did at least try. Qwerty stared out in the direction his captor walked, the fear in his eyes very obvious. He turned a pleading gaze up to the Varan, but the giant only looked straight ahead.
The giant’s stride covered a lot of ground. He’d walked several hundred feet in ten steps. Qwerty peered cautiously over the edge of the giant hand. The desert land, so far beneath him, rushed by. He tried to look back for the village, but the Varan’s folded wings and broad shoulders blocked his vision.
When the Varan stopped suddenly, Qwerty swayed and had to flinch back from the edge of the hand, before his vertigo made him fall off. He looked up to see the Varan looking curiously at him. Breathing hard, Qwerty considered what to do. He couldn’t jump out of the giant’s grasp without injury. He shifted and started to stand shakily in the palm of the hand.
He gasped and fell back to a sitting position, because the Varan lifted his hand to eye level. “How did you end up out in the desert?” the Varan marveled, but Qwerty knew somehow that it wasn’t a direct question. He wouldn’t have answered anyway.
Qwerty tried standing again. It was difficult to fathom, standing on such a surface, almost two hundred feet in the air. The Varan looked surprised but kept his hand still.
When Qwerty finally gained his feet, he paused. He didn’t want to speak to the giant. But he could try sign language. He pointed towards the Varan, then to himself. Finally, he drew his index finger across his throat. He finished with a questioning look.
“Do you think I’m going to kill you?” the Varan asked. His large orange eyes softened when he saw Qwerty nod sheepishly. “I promise not to hurt you,” he finished.
Qwerty sighed with relief. Then, he pointed to himself, and then towards the ground, over the side of the huge hand. He stayed stubbornly silent.
“Huh? No, no! I won’t drop you! Don’t worry!” the Varan answered, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
Qwerty slapped his forehead with his palm. Then, he pointed to the ground again, then to himself. Next, he put his hands together in a prayer, and fell to his knees in a pleading posture.
The Varan shook his head. “I don’t understand. Can’t you just talk?” Qwerty shook his head determinedly. He wouldn’t give in completely to his giant captor. He begged once for his freedom, and that was it. He’d have to find his own way of escaping.
The Varan huffed frustratedly, and Qwerty skittered back in his hand. “You’re stubborn, Tinic. But, I guess I can’t blame you.” He lowered his hand slightly, looking to the sky far out to the east, the direction he’d come from.
Suddenly, the Varan spread his wings. Qwerty gasped. The span of them was far greater than he could have imagined. The ruby-colored, leathery membrane stretched taut, the wings flared majestically. Qwerty looked at the ground behind the Varan. The sun shone through the wings and sent a long, red-colored shadow over the desert dust. It was a beautiful and terrible sight, those wings unfurling.
“Don’t worry, Tinic. I’m a very good flier,” the Varan said, lifting Qwerty to eye level again. Qwerty’s eyes widened and his face went pale. He shook his head vigorously. The Varan simply smiled encouragingly.
The giant lowered Qwerty to about his chest level, cupping his hands together. Qwerty tried to scramble out of the giant grip, but to no avail. The fingers locked together, creating a dim chamber around him.
The Varan crouched, and Qwerty froze. Then, in a lunging motion, they took to the air. Qwerty cried out as he felt his organs try to stay behind. The ascent played torturous games with his vertigo. All around him sounded the beating of those powerful, monstrous wings.
After what seemed like an age, the Varan leveled off and tilted forward. Qwerty’s heart continued to flutter, as he had nothing to hold onto. He saw a small opening in the giant fingers ahead of him. He gulped and crept forward to peek out.
He almost lost his breakfast to the sight. The Varan flew eastward over the desert, carrying Qwerty farther and farther from his home. But that wasn’t what struck him right away. The ground stretched miles below, desert dunes sloping gracefully under the Varan’s red shadow. Wind whipped past and played a wild game with Qwerty’s hair as he peeked his head out further. All around was desert. Dry, unforgiving desert.
“Woah! Careful!” The Varan suddenly pulled back to hover, causing Qwerty to tumble back from his observation point. He almost tasted bile at the thought of falling even that short distance back to the giant’s palms. The up-and-down motion caused by each wingbeat didn’t help. He yelped when the giant opened his cupped hands to the air to look at him. Though he still held both hands curled securely around him, Qwerty feared the fall. He crouched in the giant palm, his head low and covered by his arms. He trembled despite himself.
“It’s okay. I’m not gonna drop you. But you can’t try to get out of my hands like that, what if you had fallen?” the Varan lightly scolded him. Qwerty looked up slowly, looked the Varan in the eyes, and nodded sadly. He didn’t even flinch when the giant hands closed over him again. He did notice, as the Varan leveled off in flight again, that there were no openings this time. He curled up slightly and waited as the Varan carried him to who knew where.
The trip wore on for hours. At one point, Qwerty felt a pounding headache settle in, and breathing became difficult. Though the Varan moved gently, he still produced a lot of body heat, and it was the desert. Qwerty’s hair matted to his brow with sweat. His eyelids drooped heavily as he fought to breathe in the oven-like conditions. Qwerty fell into a dull trance, unable to stay aware of his surroundings. Feeling nauseous, he closed his eyes and lay down, no longer fighting his sudden fatigue. ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 5. Qwerty doesn't speak to him for another couple chapters, I think. He's a very stubborn Tinic ... and well-trained too. Hope you enjoy. I'm having fun writing it.
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Post by Amayasama on Jun 23, 2010 0:31:37 GMT -5
O.O Oh my gosh...x.x I think I might have a heart attack if I was flying like that. Good chap Neon, it makes me wonder what the Varan has in store for him x3
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Post by masquerade on Jun 23, 2010 4:51:44 GMT -5
Thx for the Update! ^^!
*gives 2 massive cookies*
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Post by Satal on Jun 23, 2010 10:02:18 GMT -5
Sorry again for being bitchy Neon. You have a good story here. Great job!
*returns to the shadows so she doesn't have to update herself*
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Post by LightHeart on Jun 23, 2010 16:31:27 GMT -5
I'm sorry Neon. I wasn't serious about the demand. ;^; *clings*
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Post by whisperer on Jun 29, 2010 18:08:34 GMT -5
I dunno if following the rules is such a good idea, if it leads to you getting kidnapped, Qwerty!
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Post by howlingwolf on Jul 10, 2010 1:08:38 GMT -5
Just found your story today, Neon and I think it's really good. The Varans seem like cool creatures. Can't wait for more
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Post by Neon on Aug 5, 2010 15:59:29 GMT -5
Thanks everyone for the excellent feedback!
VI. Distrust and Ruin
A cool breeze lightly touched his face. It felt good. Qwerty took a shaky breath of this fresh air, still barely awake. He thought vaguely that he ought to remember something. Nothing immediately came to mind.
He didn’t recognize the surface he lay on. But that hardly seemed to matter. He breathed slowly, in no hurry to wake up. Suddenly, though, something nudged him on the shoulder. It was large, whatever it was. He remembered.
With a gasp, he sat up, his eyes snapping open. He’d lain on the palm of a Varan, the one that had captured him and carried him off. The Varan had just nudged him with his index finger, and retreated quickly when Qwerty sat up.
“You’re awake, good,” the Varan said with relief. He held Qwerty out in front of him steadily. “I was worried that I’d killed you.”
They were on solid ground. The sky was very cloudy, and a chilly breeze constantly ruffled Qwerty’s hair. He ignored the Varan for a moment, and crept to the edge of the hand, peering over the side. Thick green grass covered the ground. Qwerty frowned. He’d never seen so much grass in such high concentration. He backed off from the edge when the giant hand twitched.
“It’s a lot nicer here than out in the desert, huh?” the Varan asked. He smiled encouragingly. This prompted Qwerty to look around once more.
The Varan stood in a wide field of the grass, which stood just taller than Qwerty. Far off to one side was an enormous fence, made of metal wires, crosshatched together. Qwerty looked all around, following this fence, seeing that it formed a rough square yard behind a fittingly gigantic house. Beyond the fence were several trees, and Qwerty stared. He didn’t recall ever being so close to a real tree in his life. They were frighteningly tall.
The Varan shifted and Qwerty looked back at him. He sat in the grass, his wings folded carefully so they wouldn’t scrape the ground. He lowered his hand to the ground, and tilted it slightly. Qwerty had to step down to avoid falling on his face. The blades of grass were taller than him. He tried to push them away, feeling ridiculous in such a situation.
The Varan chuckled. “Whoops, guess you’re even too short for the grass.” Qwerty looked up with a frown in time to see the hand returning to him. He tried to draw back, but to no avail. The giant held him up above the grass, and flattened the grass with his other hand. Finally, he set Qwerty down again, and the Tinic had to take a deep breath of relief.
Qwerty shuddered slightly in the cool breeze. He continued to look around, eyeing the trees, and the fence, and the house looming behind the Varan. It looked to be at least two stories, which was amazing in itself. Few of the houses back home had more than a ground level. This house was made of straight, even wooden siding, painted an off-white shade. An awning of the roof shaded the back porch, and Qwerty saw a few pieces of giant furniture beneath it.
“Welcome, Tinic,” the Varan said, and Qwerty snapped his gaze back to him. “That’s my home. This is our backyard.” He spoke slowly and clearly, as if to a foreigner.
Qwerty nodded slowly. Then, he looked at the sky. He judged the sun’s progress, and found west. Past the few trees in that direction, he saw taller, less well-kept grass in another wide field. Many miles beyond that, to his dismay, he saw a ridge of mountains covered in fog. His jaw dropped. The Varan had carried him from there … it’d take him a lifetime to get over them, and who knew how much desert lay between him and home? There was no hope of getting anywhere unless the Varan carried him back, and that would mean revealing the village to him. Suddenly he felt weak in the knees.
“Hey …” the giant voice asked behind him. Qwerty turned to look up again, a dull, sad look in his eyes. “I guess this is a bit freaky. And I know you don’t really want to talk to me or anything. But you’re welcome to stay. You’ll be safer, and not lost out in the desert. Okay?”
Qwerty’s expression hardened. He shook his head darkly. It enraged him that the Varan offered such an absurd option only after carrying him off.
The Varan frowned. “Come on, now. You were all alone out there. You wouldn’t have survived.” He insisted. Then, he turned his giant face to the cloudy sky. “It’s gonna rain. How about you come inside for a while? I know it’ll be safer.”
Once again, the giant hand approached him. This time, thought, it stopped palm-up next to Qwerty. He stared at it, leaning back slightly like he might catch something. With a frown he turned away and crossed his arms.
“Hey, don’t be like that …” the Varan scolded lightly. Qwerty barely turned his head back before the giant fingers nudged at the back of his legs. He lost his balance, his arms flailing out as he fell backwards onto the waiting hand. He glared an upside-down glare at the bemused face. Then, with a huff, he scrambled to regain his feet, before the giant lifted him from the ground again. He turned to warily face the giant, taking a defensive pose.
The Varan chuckled. “Lively to the end. But come on now … it’s going to rain.” He reached forward again. Qwerty jumped back and waved his hands at the giant fingers violently. He couldn’t hope to do any harm, but it had the desired effect. The Varan cautiously drew back. Qwerty intensified his glare, clenching his hands into fists. There was no way he’d cooperate with a kidnapper.
The Varan’s expression became an annoyed frown. Qwerty’s heart jumped at such a terrible sight. “You want to be left alone, huh? Fine,” he whispered angrily. Qwerty’s heart pounded with fear to see the frustration on that giant face, but he held his ground.
The Varan shifted and began to stand, the grass quivering with the ground. As he ascended farther and farther to his great height, Qwerty gasped and backpedaled several steps. He gulped nervously to see the Varan stare down at him. “Have fun out here in the rain by yourself,” the giant dismissed. He turned away, his wings folded tightly to his back. His tail dragged behind him. Qwerty fixed his eyes on the dragon-giant until he’d walked up the steps and disappeared into the giant house.
Unable to comprehend what had just happened, Qwerty fell to his knees. He’d gotten away, just like that? But it did him no good. He had no idea how he’d be able to walk the distance home. But he couldn’t simply stay near the Varan, especially since there were definitely more nearby.
He took a deep breath, and rose to his feet. He refused to give up, despite the odds against him. He knew he was on his own. He turned back to the west, and stared up at the top ridge of those mountains. He knew they would be fatal. If he even reached the edge of the next field, he’d die in the foothills.
He thought for another brief moment. He pictured his home, out in the desert. The grass didn’t grow there, it was hot and dry, and desert snakes were a constant threat. But it was home. With a determined look set on his face, Qwerty started forward.
Only a few steps later, he had to pause. He left the little patch of grass that the Varan had flattened for him. He pushed through the thick grass, clumsily sqeezing past blade after blade. Most of it grew just tall enough to reduce his visibility. It made him nervous.
An hour and a half later, Qwerty reached the back fence of the well-groomed yard. He ducked slightly to step through one of the cross-hatched wire diamonds. He paused to look back. The groomed yard and the gigantic house sat dully where he left them. Nothing seemed to stir but the wind.
He turned away to survey the field outside the fence. The grass, he noted, stretched quite a bit taller than the grass inside the fence. It also grew in clumps and patches, creating a sort of labyrinth on the ground.
A tree stood several hundred feet in front and to the right. Qwerty craned his neck back to try seeing the top branches. The rustling leaves flickered green at him. They reminded him of the coming weather.
A rumbling boom cracked through the air, and Qwerty flinched. He looked from the tree to the grey sky itself. It looked ready to storm at any moment. Qwerty knew what rain meant for someone of his stature. If a raindrop didn’t knock him out, he’d simply be washed away. He moved his goggles back down over his eyes. With a panicked drive, he darted into the maze of tall grass, searching for a point of higher ground to survive the rain.
~~~~~~~~~~ Ta-da~ Not having a computer is kicking my rear. :C
The Varan is kind of thick-headed. But can you blame him, when Qwerty won't just tell him the problem? Our giant dragon friend truly believes he saved Qwerty from a fate of dying out in the desert. ... And don't worry. He's not gone for good.
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Post by masquerade on Aug 6, 2010 3:34:17 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]wow[/glow] [glow=red,2,300] [/glow] how is he going to make it out alive?
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Post by Amayasama on Aug 6, 2010 12:24:36 GMT -5
o.o I wonder if Varan have a good sense of smell of something...is that how he finds our little Qwerty? ^^; I'm worried about him...rain isn't kind to little creatures...>> Neither are mountains
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Post by Neon on Aug 24, 2010 23:05:34 GMT -5
VII. Higher Ground
Within minutes, fat raindrops began to fall. Many splashed through the grass to hit the ground around Qwerty. Soon, he’d been struck by several drops himself. Qwerty ran on, breathing heavily, trying to find a haven from the weather. He already felt the ground becoming slick mud.
A large drop of water hit Qwerty square on the top of his head. He stopped in his tracks to push his now-soaked hair from his face, and to recover. He felt a headache coming on. And the rain was only getting worse.
When he next ran on, he noticed that the mud always seemed to stick to him more with each step. His boots were soon caked in it.
His foot caught soundly with one step, and a few impacts of rain knocked Qwerty off his feet. He fell forward and caught himself on his hands, sinking to his elbows. Mud splattered his front, and his arms were covered. He clumsily stood back up and continued forward, the rain still assaulting him.
After going on in the same manner for several more minutes, Qwerty reached a small creek, though to the Varan it’d be little more than a trickle of water. He considered the steady flow of the water. It didn’t even come up to his knees. He decided to walk across, in order to continue west. He tentatively stepped into the creek.
Qwerty was unaccustomed to rain. It didn’t happen often at home. He didn’t expect what happened next. The mud under the stream, particularly soft from the flow of water, didn’t hold even his small weight. He sank to his thighs by his third step, exposing his middle to the current.
Before he could react, the water pulled him from the mud and carried him along its path. He tried to stop his progress, but the only thing he could reach was slick mud.
Qwerty adjusted to se could sit up as if on a slide, and watched his progress through the water. Every time he passed a drooping blade of grass, he tried to grab it. Every time, it slipped from his grip and he fell underwater for a few seconds.
The water suddenly dropped over an irregular edge on the ground, and the stream changed direction. The current eddied and dragged Qwerty underwater for several confusing seconds. He couldn’t see where up and down were anymore.
Am I going to die this soon? He thought to himself in a brief moment of panic. He hadn’t made it through two fields, and here he was, at the mercy of a little stream of water.
He finally managed to surface, gasping for air. It was just in time, too, to see that the stream widened up ahead. It diverged in either direction around a rock in its path, jutting out of the mud. Qwerty held out his arms to brace himself.
The water rammed him into the stone mercilessly, and he let out a hoarse cry. His left wrist had definitely sprained. The dull grey rock was fairly smooth from years of rainwater, but he managed to hold onto it, the water pushing on his back. Wincing as his left wrist throbbed with pain, he used his other hand to pull himself up. Though it was slick and he was covered in mud, Qwerty managed to free himself of the water level. The rock was just a bit smaller than one of the Varan’s giant shoes, and so it had plenty of room to hold him.
Once at its peak, Qwerty collapsed onto his side, cradling his injured arm close to his chest. The rain continued to strike him, the watery confusion ever present. As he lay there, he prayed fervently for the storm to end. Until it was over, he was completely stranded.
In the distance, through the sound of the rain and thunder, Qwerty heard something familiar. It was the voice of his captor, calling over and over. But he couldn’t tell what the giant was saying.
Qwerty didn’t know what to think. On one hand, being recaptured was far from appealing. But he was sure to die if that didn’t happen.
The Varan came in view at last. His hair was matted down; he’d been in the rain for a while, it seemed. Qwerty flinched at the sight of those wild orange eyes against the stormy grey of everything else. The voice became clear enough for him to hear: “Tinic? If you can hear me, please come out.” He went on to say more, but a crack of thunder deafened Qwerty’s senses. He kept his eyes on the Varan, breathing hard. He wanted to be found. Every raindrop was torture.
The giant continued to scan the ground around him. Many times, he came close to spotting Qwerty’s resting place. He started off in another direction. Qwerty winced with pain and despair. He laid his head down and curled up more, resigning himself to remain lost. His eyes drooped closed, but he couldn’t fall asleep while still battered by the cold drops of rain.
The rain pattered loudly. But suddenly, it didn’t strike him anymore. Qwerty opened his eyes cautiously. Things were darker … with a red tint. He lifted his ehad weakly to turn and look up. Stretched over him, sheltering him from the rain, was a gigantic red wing. He turned his head further to eye the owner of the wing. The Varan knelt on the ground, looking down at him with concern in those large orange eyes.
The giant hand approached slowly. Qwerty lay back down, offering no resistance this time. When the Varan scooped him onto his palm, Qwerty jarred his injured wrist. He cried out with pain and curled even tighter to himself, clutching his hurt limb. His stomach did flips as he felt himself rise through the air. He opened pained eyes to see that he stopped just before the giant face.
“What have I done to you … I’m sorry, Tinic.” The Varan lamented. “I should never have left you out here alone.”
Qwerty couldn’t even manage a rueful glare in response. He lay down on the giant palm. No longer battered by rain, he fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~ He's baaaaaack. There's nowhere to go but uphill from here.
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Post by masquerade on Aug 25, 2010 1:48:31 GMT -5
maybe now they can get along ^_^
i doubt it'll be soon but it will happen! i think..
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Post by natalie on Aug 25, 2010 2:04:47 GMT -5
Great story!! I like it.
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