Firecrackerwolf

~ The Banded of the Cabin ~ A Silverwing What-If Story By Firecrackerwolf Quin’s POV I was shaking violently with Shade and Marina as soon as we emerged from the hearth and dropped down to one of the counters, and we were covered in so much snow. Thankfully, it was slowly melting off of us, but even the inside of the cabin was barely providing us the warmth we needed. Though I suppose it beats being out in Canada’s boreal weather any further. “Th–that w–was a c–close c–call,” Shade shivered, sweeping his field of vision across the cabin.  “Y–yeah, b–but now w–we h–have to w–wait out th–the storm,” Marina’s teeth clattered while pointing out the new predicament we were now in. “H–how long do you g–guys think it will b–be until we can press ahead?” Shade’s voice then returned to normal while continuing to speak. “We can’t let Goth and Throbb catch up; we have to be many wingbeats ahead of them.” That was my concern as well. We may be safe now, but that doesn’t mean we are out of

~ Survive or Die ~ By Firecrackerwolf “Secrets follow us Visions, we can’t forget The animal inside got a hold of us But we don’t feel regret Everything’s twisted But we don’t feel a thing There’s no resisting It’s in our blood, in our blood, no escape Can’t outrun, no we can’t get away It’s in our blood, in our blood, in our veins This is the world we made…” ~ Ruelle, “The World We Made” - PART I - There were too many of them. Jail cells and the workhouses were beginning to get crammed, and even when the citizens of Britannia were aware of the consequences, should they dare to break even a simple law or spit out their distaste for the dictator and how he rules the kingdom with an iron fist, there was always someone that got shackled and tossed in jail or the workhouses like a ragdoll. King Ratigan could keep on setting any possible example, and there would still be someone valiant and foolish enough to dare usurp him.  He needed something that would keep everyone in

~ Love Within the Labyrinth ~ By Firecrackerwolf “Ratigan, where are we going?” Rosalie was being kept in the dark as to what Ratigan had planned for them. They wandered through the night in a park lit by and dotted with human lampposts, arms laced through one another’s. Rosalie was garbed in one of her finest frocks, a simple white one with short sleeves that were slightly puffy, along with a sky-blue sash around her waist, her hair in a half-updo, secured by a bow of the same blue color as well, and had on white flat footwear that had white bows on them. Did she overdress? Underdress? Ratigan gave her no indication of what they were doing tonight, and even when she kept prodding him for an answer, he gave her the opposite of what she desired.  A chuckle bubbled out of Ratigan. “Oh, my dear,” he began, “it’s a surprise. Surely you know by now I never reveal one until the time is right.” Rosalie huffed, perhaps a little dramatically. “I do hope it’s not robbing a jewelry store or