Post by iolana on Jul 10, 2010 21:03:32 GMT -5
This was originally a "sample post" for another Redwall RP forum, but it turned out quite fanfiction-ish, so I added to it and voila! My first Redwall fanfiction. In fact, my first fanfic ever since.... seventh grade? Yeah, long time ago. I was into Sailor Moon then. XD ANYWAYYY, I digress... *cough*
It catalogues my main character (Tanneth)'s mother after her first big battle at Salamandastron, in which her twin little brothers were killed. :c Drama, behbeh! "Stormblind" is a word I made up to mimic "snowblind," a temporary blindness caused by the glare of snow. It's real, look it up! XD
Most everybeast will experience a storm at some point in their life. Some, like the sand lizards of the deep southern deserts, may only see one -- a short, humid shower, just enough to raise the dust from the ground. Others, like the sailors on a ship at sea, will see many, with waves angry and tall as mountains reaching out to bruised and blackened storm clouds, stabbing the water with lightning thrusts bright enough to blind and thunder loud enough to deafen.
Some storms are not products of nature, but of circumstance.
Torry Callaghan, newly recruited to the Long Patrol, felt she was caught in the kind of storm that does violent battle with the sea every autumn, only there was no rain, no thunder, no lightning. Not a cloud in the sky. She gazed expressionlessly at the rock-hewn ceiling of the Salamandastron sick bay, turning her eyes every few minutes to a tall window across the room to gauge the light of day. She was vaguely aware of her mother, fussing over the blankets on the cot her only child was laid on, weeping silently. Her father wasn't there.
Victory. It had been a difficult battle -- surprisingly so, and became especially difficult when the first level of the mountain fortress had been breached. But they had won nonetheless, another victorious battle for the Badgerlord of Salamandastron and his hares of the Long Patrol. Torry felt they had lost; she pressed her lips together until they were a painful tight line. She wanted to speak so badly to somebeast -- anybeast -- but then she saw their little faces, and the thunder swallowed her voice. Salamandastron had won, but Torry had lost -- lost her first real fight, lost her parents' cheerful smiles, lost something she couldn't quite put her paw on -- couldn't quite reach -- before it was lost in that storm at sea again.
Her brothers were lost. Not quite out of dibbunhood -- too old to be content with the other young ones locked safe in the center of the mountain, and too young to know to stay there. Crafty enough to escape the nursery undetected, stupid enough to try and join the battle. Small enough to die quickly. And now they were in a place blacker than the bottom of the sea and quieter than a winter's night; they were locked in a storm Torry would never be able to see through or hear through or shout through.
She was blinded by a storm that had come on so suddenly she was struck dumb and didn't know what to do. She closed her eyes. Torry had seen many storms in her lifetime of 17 seasons. She had seen the brief sprinklings of rain during the summer, dampening the dunes and then disappearing into a harsh, blinding sun. She had seen murderous winter squalls that caked the mountain in snow and turned spit to ice when it hit the ground. She had seen those autumn storms on the sea, sometimes far out enough that all that was discernable was a line of black clouds hovering over a black sea, thin, crooked flashes of light connecting the two; she had seen them up close, howling wind, lightning lighting up the walls opposite windows, and waves that pounded her mountain home mercilessly, sometimes lasting for days.
But this was the first time she had ever truly been stormblind.
It catalogues my main character (Tanneth)'s mother after her first big battle at Salamandastron, in which her twin little brothers were killed. :c Drama, behbeh! "Stormblind" is a word I made up to mimic "snowblind," a temporary blindness caused by the glare of snow. It's real, look it up! XD
~
Most everybeast will experience a storm at some point in their life. Some, like the sand lizards of the deep southern deserts, may only see one -- a short, humid shower, just enough to raise the dust from the ground. Others, like the sailors on a ship at sea, will see many, with waves angry and tall as mountains reaching out to bruised and blackened storm clouds, stabbing the water with lightning thrusts bright enough to blind and thunder loud enough to deafen.
Some storms are not products of nature, but of circumstance.
Torry Callaghan, newly recruited to the Long Patrol, felt she was caught in the kind of storm that does violent battle with the sea every autumn, only there was no rain, no thunder, no lightning. Not a cloud in the sky. She gazed expressionlessly at the rock-hewn ceiling of the Salamandastron sick bay, turning her eyes every few minutes to a tall window across the room to gauge the light of day. She was vaguely aware of her mother, fussing over the blankets on the cot her only child was laid on, weeping silently. Her father wasn't there.
Victory. It had been a difficult battle -- surprisingly so, and became especially difficult when the first level of the mountain fortress had been breached. But they had won nonetheless, another victorious battle for the Badgerlord of Salamandastron and his hares of the Long Patrol. Torry felt they had lost; she pressed her lips together until they were a painful tight line. She wanted to speak so badly to somebeast -- anybeast -- but then she saw their little faces, and the thunder swallowed her voice. Salamandastron had won, but Torry had lost -- lost her first real fight, lost her parents' cheerful smiles, lost something she couldn't quite put her paw on -- couldn't quite reach -- before it was lost in that storm at sea again.
Her brothers were lost. Not quite out of dibbunhood -- too old to be content with the other young ones locked safe in the center of the mountain, and too young to know to stay there. Crafty enough to escape the nursery undetected, stupid enough to try and join the battle. Small enough to die quickly. And now they were in a place blacker than the bottom of the sea and quieter than a winter's night; they were locked in a storm Torry would never be able to see through or hear through or shout through.
She was blinded by a storm that had come on so suddenly she was struck dumb and didn't know what to do. She closed her eyes. Torry had seen many storms in her lifetime of 17 seasons. She had seen the brief sprinklings of rain during the summer, dampening the dunes and then disappearing into a harsh, blinding sun. She had seen murderous winter squalls that caked the mountain in snow and turned spit to ice when it hit the ground. She had seen those autumn storms on the sea, sometimes far out enough that all that was discernable was a line of black clouds hovering over a black sea, thin, crooked flashes of light connecting the two; she had seen them up close, howling wind, lightning lighting up the walls opposite windows, and waves that pounded her mountain home mercilessly, sometimes lasting for days.
But this was the first time she had ever truly been stormblind.
