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  • Here’s the first chapter of my new short story. I had fun writing this.

    Shifting in her seat boredly, Fireblaze slowly filled in answers to her math problems with an old, short pencil.
    Feeling a sudden kick under the desk she whipped around to glare at her friend Taylor.
    “Featherbrain,” The brown hen mouthed, her dark olive eyes motioning to a problem on Fireblaze’s paper, which read “345 – 31 = 316”.
    She’d probably noticed the mistake while she was pretending to copy Fireblaze’s work.
    With a quick nod at Taylor, Fireblaze changed the 6 for a 4, letting out an embarrassed groan.
    “It’s fine- math is boring anyways,” Taylor muttered, fiddling with her pencil, “I get it.”
    “Yeah,” Fireblaze sighed, staring at the clock, “I wonder if I’ll make it through it.”
    “Of course you will,” Taylor clucked lightly, flicking Fireblaze with her wing, “We’ll survive it together.” Leaning closer she added in a whisper, “Hey, at least it’s Rachel teaching and not You-Know-Who.”
    “Yeah, I know exactly who,” Fireblaze muttered back, thinking of their strictest teacher, “Mr. McRinch is so cruel!”
    “Maybe not cruel, but yeah- his so-called discipline is just… ugh!” Taylor made a face.
    “You’d make a better teacher than Mr. McRinch,” Fireblaze told her, “Much less strict.”
    “Thanks,” Taylor smiled, “Being less strict than Mr. McRinch is like.. baby stuff, though. Who knows, maybe I could be a teacher when I grow up,” she shrugged, looking thoughtful, “But more likely a writer or a scientist.”
    Taylor glanced up at the clock. “Hey, we’d better get back to work,” she said, tapping her paper, “That is, unless we want to get stuck in the dungeon.”
    Fireblaze referred to having to study during recess as “the dungeon,” and Taylor agreed with the name.
    “Oops, looks like you missed this one, too,” Taylor’s wing ran across a problem on Fireblaze’s page. “Wouldn’t want you to get an F!”
    “Thanks,” Fireblaze rubbed the wrong answer furiously with the eraser on the back of her pencil.
    “No problem,” Taylor murmured, not looking up from her worksheet, which she had gotten back to, writing the numbers neatly with her blue pen.
    Fireblaze cast a final glance at Taylor before turning her focus to her work as well. She smiled- it was good to have a friend who shared her opinions, understood her, and never judged her.

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    • I agree with what Fireblaze said about Mr. McRinch. I remember reading a story you wrote with him in it, and I remember hating him!
      MothPool Shipper

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  • The basic plot of the first story I wrote. I was like, five, maybe.
    [spoiler title=spoiler]The story was called The Dog And The Hog Who Was A Pog.
    So, this dog met this hog, called him a pog, which I guess is a rude name in this particular universe. The hog got mad, and the dog and the hog both went home annoyed. Now that I think about it, this story really lacks a plot.[/spoiler]

    🎵Why do you write like you’re running out of time?🎵

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    • I love this!! 😛

      I wrote a lot when I was younger, too. I wrote my first stories when I was really little by drawing the pictures first and then telling my mom what to write down (since I couldn’t write yet 😛 ).

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  • In this scene, Fireblaze grows to like Buck better than she had, and I found that writing it has actually made me like him a lot more, too.

      “So, Buck,” Fireblaze inquired the cream-colored rooster formally, “In your opinion, does getting a blood-test hurt?”
      “If it hurt,” Buck crowed, “I would buck it!”
      “That’s actually one of the most intelligent answers I’ve heard all day,” Fireblaze muttered.
      Buck wasn’t usually the brightest, but Fireblaze had to admit bucking something that hurt seemed like a genius idea.
      “What… would you do if I got a blood-test and it hurt?” she asked slowly.
      “I would buck it!” Buck kicked up his feet.
      Fireblaze smiled. Buck was an annoying, boastful featherduster- but he could be a pretty loyal friend, too.

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  • Dappled Berries
    – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
    Honeyfern and her mate, Berrynose, were on a walk in the forest. Sunlight shone through the trees’ green leaves as the two cats walked along.

    Honeyfern was very glad to be Berrynose’s mate. To most cats, he seems bossy, but he has a kind heart, she thought, gazing at her mate.

    Berrynose stopped walking suddenly. He asked, “Honeyfern?”

    “Yes?” mewed Honeyfern, concern in her blue eyes. Berrynose appeared worried. I hope he’s alright, she thought.

    “Can I talk to you about something that’s been bothering me?” Berrynose asked. He lowered his gaze, adding, “I mean, if you’re okay with it.”

    Honeyfern gently licked Berrynose’s ear, trying to comfort him. “What’s bothering you, love?”

    Berrynose confessed, “I feel insecure and because I’m not a Clan-born cat. I know that non-Clan born cats can still achieve great things. Firestar was born a kitty pet, and he’s a great leader. And Millie is a strong fighter. But I still feel… I feel like I’ll never be as good as a Clan born cat.”

    Sympathy in her blue eyes, Honeyfern meowed, “Oh, Berrynose! Of course you’re good enough.”

    “Not every cat thinks so. Last Gathering, I heard Breezepelt of WindClan talking about how Hazeltail, Mousewhisker, and I would never truly be ThunderClan cats. I know I seem bossy and rude to other cats. But it’s because I’m so insecure. I don’t know how else to act. I don’t know how to turn over a new leaf.” Berrynose mewed, his stumpy, cream-colored tail twitching.

    Honeyfern pondered her mate’s words for a moment. Then she spoke.

    “Berrynose, Breezepelt is wrong. You’re a brave warrior- so are Hazeltail and Mousewhisker. I know that you have a kind heart. That’s who you really are, Berrynose. You’re not anything Breezepelt says you are. And I’m happy to be your mate.” she meowed.

    Berrynose’s amber eyes shining, he asked, “You… you really think that, Honeyfern?”

    “Of course I do. I love you.” Honeyfern responded.

    “I love you, too.” Berrynose said.

    And in that moment, Honeyfern was reminded of how much she truly loved Berrynose.

    It didn’t matter what other cats thought. It only mattered that she and Berrynose were happy together- and they were.

    THE END

    My Shot

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  • How much of your writing do you share with your family?
    I used to share more of it when I was younger, but now I honestly prefer only sharing it with the Blog.
    History Has Its Eyes On You

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