[=9]If you know my writings well, you may notice a slight change in style. I was inspired by "An Occurance at Owl Creek Bridge" and attempted my own interpretation of realistic literature. I hope you enjoy it, this is one my few slightly silly stories. I also played heavily with words in here, especially with alliteration.
The first hungry thunder bellow of the year. A vivid blue ear flicked in retaliation, and the stump of the other remained in woeful slumber. In a larger aspect, there was a gradual awakening of feather, characterized with periodic yawns and groans. She drug her long limble limbs beneath her form. In sharp contrast to the event of gaining conciousness, the sky howled at her to rise. She complied with a skittering, tinkering tangle of limb that quickly found her standing startled in the soil.
On her rise, the sky rejoiced. Snow-laden eyes observed this plainly; little figures of lighting cavorting across the night and tossing happy sparks in celebration. However, the moment they ceased thier romping, the black beast of cloud thundered commands that the celebration continued. It made her lethargic lapse of thought cease its waves for a moment to bring about a suggestion of uselessness. Perhaps the sky didn't need her after all. But one could not be down watching the lighting dance daintly in the late winter sky.
Something stirred beside her, but did not rise. The lump of careless flesh hauled itself over onto its side to peer curiously into her wide-eyed visage. He stared solemnly; an amber concocture of weariness and concern. She broke the silence by purposely letting her color drained eyes search into his soul. Darcy looked uncomfortable under her stare, but she blamed him not. Her eyes, as previously noted, had lost every tinge of color and blazed an angry white. Vision hindered not but mind rendered hollow.
