DraconianWriting

DraconianWriting

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the toughest thing I had ever done was coming towards me at the speed of a bullet. Why it came today, I would never know, all that I knew was that I had to make it through this. For my friends, for my family, for myself

the hillside was her favorite place when she was younger. she enjoyed its green grass, its abundance of wildflowers, and most of all, she enjoyed the view of her small town from the top of it. it used to be her favorite place, but now it was all ashes and dust.

The gameplan was simple. Get in. Take the loot. Get out. Nothing could be simpler. Except, of course, the actual implementation of the plan. The complications began with the dragon at the entrance.

A single word was in her mind. A single dangerous word. This word could potentially destroy her life. It could potentially save it though. It was so hard to know what love could do.

He was fading. There was nothing he could do about it, and he knew that. He didn't care. He had lived a good life. He still loved his wife, and longed to be with her again. He only hoped his children knew that he was happy.

dread

the dread crept up her spine like a cockroach. there was nothing to describe what she was seeing right now. she couldn't even scream.

bark

The dog's bark brought him joy as he came through the door. The dog had been his best friend since he was young. It was getting old now, and he knew its time was almost up, but he loved it anyway.

the room let no sound escape. no matter how I screamed no one outside could hear. I could see them, but they ignored me.

The fire was burning in his eyes. This was a power he had never felt before. It was frightening. He felt so alive, and so angry at the same time. There was no other way to let it out than to avenge the wrongs that were done to him.

catch

He caught the orb as it was thrown to him. "Good, you can handle magic. I think that you will grow to be a great mage. Now, trow it back to me."

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writing since 2017 · 16 entries · 16 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means DraconianWriting showed up.

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16days written

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on this day 9 years ago

DraconianWriting wrote about fading
“He was fading. There was nothing he could do about it, and he knew that. He didn't care. He had lived a good life. He still loved his wife, and longed to be with her again. He only hoped his children…”

the words DraconianWriting reaches for

nowwordeyesbodylongedlistenhardescapeyoungdonelovedsinglepotentiallyfavoriteenjoyedbutterflies