BlogClan Tavern, The Ninth Life

Um, could someone draw a griffin with pale purple chest fur? I have to write a story for school and mine has a griffin and I need a picture. This is the first 2 paragraphs. [spoiler title=” On Griffins WIngs”] Creak, the wisteria tree groaned as I clambered over it. Tonight the griffins would hatch and I had to be there. I am Kyra, daughter of Max Cook. My dad has been overly protective since my mom died, so I have to sneak out.  All the 12-16-year-olds can attend, in hopes of finding a griffin. The small mountainous kingdom of Grifferia had long raised Griffins and was the home of these elegant creatures. As I approached the town square, the clamor was loud and the moonlight was gleaming down. As I finally found a place in the crowd, crack, the griffin egg started to hatch. 

Out came a griffin with bright red chest fur. A voice called out “Skylar!” and the griffin ran to a girl with hair as bright as the sun. I recognized her as Delphine Smith. The two bonded and then the next egg hatched. As little green griffin groaned and tumbled out of its egg, “Pine” was called. I watched as the griffin, now named Pine bounded over to a boy named Caleb with black hair and legs of a giraffe. While everyone was watching them the last egg split and the baby griffin shone like a precious stone. “Wisteria” I cried and everyone looked at me, while the little griffin came over to me. Her chest fur was pale purple and soft as a feather. 

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