Animal-Writers

PROLOGUE The young mouse sat with his back to the mast. He was the last one left now aboard the great ship Reefrider. The rest of the crew had died of thirst.  Captain, cook, lookout, deckhands, quartermaster, steersbeast. All dead. It was just him, the cook’s assistant. It had been less than two and one half moons since they had set off from their home in England, heading toward what the humans called the New World. After about two moons the ales, wines, beers and juices ran out. Seven sunrises after that, the water. Earlier that day he had consumed the last of the food brought from England. Now there was nothing.     The young mouse

I loved the spring. I loved the first few days in particular; watching the sun peek out tentatively from behind the clouds, and watching the frost drip steadily from the still-bare branches, the forest floor damp and cool beneath my pads. As the shadows slipped away at last, chased away by the sun, the pack would sit and howl out their song, a melody of joy and excitement, and my heart would swell as I added my voice to theirs, my paws shuffling underneath me as I wriggled in excitement. I had survived another winter, and the alpha female's belly was swollen with unborn cubs; my new brothers and sisters. This was the best time to hunt; when

Tips on Building Up A Story And Fight Writer's Block! These are just some tips that I use myself when I'm stuck on writing a fan-fiction or anything else for that matter. I hope this can help you over come writer's block or pull your random thoughts into order or just give basic ideas. Whether it's for a comic or a story this should be of use to you. The Example I Will Use: Let's use an example of my Demon on the Battlefield comic Here are some simple steps and examples that can help you out…. 1. Identify your base Your base is the very basic information of what you're looking into e.g. Demon on the Battlefield / Dragons / Ulalume a

Maremma was a big white dog, as placid and dumb-looking as they came. She looked it. That's not to say she was, because it was Maremma's business to appear as one thing, but be something else entirely different. For that had been the business of her mother, her grandmother, her great-grandmother, all the way back to her ancestors in the mountains of France. Now Maremma's sort was in a new land and a good land, but just as full of beasts ready to snatch up a chicken or a goat as those in the faraway Old World. See, when Mister Fox came calling to the chicken coops on Maremma's farm, he'd fairly chuckle to himself because he couldn't see or s