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Talvace on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/talvace/art/LEIA-IS-HERE-667069612Talvace

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The Abdominable Snowman + Story [Yuletide]

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Promoted Deviations

Literature

Echoed Memories

We are all echoes lost in the hidden valleys and green dells of long gone songs. There are daisy chains that float under our feet. Images invoke fractured memories, the arrow as it hits the mark. Soft sounds of waves roll against the sand. A nod and some lingering look that sparks a soul aflame again. Back to childhood, to days of school and games. The sport in those brave few minutes before a performance. Odd things spring up, moments once vague, now forgotten, like a kachina doll shown as the art it is. Where this life leads, I dare not sing, I dare not peek.

Literature

AAT: Fievel Goes West Screenplay Rewrite (part 1)

AN AMERICAN TAIL: FIEVEL GOES WEST – SCREENPLAY REVISION NOTE: The following screenplay sections are for the scenes that are to be re-dubbed and/or extended. The scenes left out are the ones that do not need to be altered. Scene 1A FADE IN/DOWNWARD PAN TO AN OLD WESTERN DESERT, ONCE PANNING STOPS, THE TITLE SUDDENLY SLAPS ONTO THE SCREEN WITH THE SOUND OF A CRACKING WHIP, THEN FADES AFTER FIVE SECONDS ZOOM SLOWLY TOWARD A WESTERN TOWN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PLAINS, THEN DISSOLVE TO A SCENE IN THE SQUARE FROM WHICH STANDS SHERIFF WYLIE BURP, AN ELDERLY BASSET HOUND IN THE CENTER OF A RING OF CAT OUTLAWS. YOUNG BOY’S VOICE ... And then, the hero Wylie Burp squinted across the dusty street. CUT THE TOP OF A ROOFTOP, FROM WHICH FIEVEL MOUSEKEWITZ, WHO HAS GROWN A BIT, TIPTOES TO THE EDGE TO SEE THEM. HE IS DRESSED IN WESTERN CLOTHES AS WELL. FIEVEL [O.S.] Hopelessly surrounded by the Cactus Cat Gang, he stood his ground refusing to back down. CAMERA CIRCLES AROUND WYLIE BURP WHO

Literature

Foliage

Sight bleeding through the leaves never coming back orange and brown, the fallen ones quivering iris atop broken twigs do not be so afraid there are fields of stars in your eyes that go on and on endlessly, forever lay down your sword and crane your neck look to the skies see the end approaching slowly Hell wide open, raining down all the roots reaching Heaven in the dirt encompassing light swallowing the forest world beautiful night bowed and broken to glorious lords see the moon approaching, lowly tides all changing, the seas abound all the teeth of the earth spit up with mud and hurt go now, fly away bird and do not return until your rebirth.

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Literature

[V] Unexpected Obstacle

It was a very early start to the morning for Hakon when he was woken from his slumber, his handler walking into his stall with his saddle and halter in hand. The sun had yet to peek above the horizon, the fading evening leaving a haze of blue at the edges and a piercing chill in the air. Outside the stable, Hakon could hear snuffling and pacing in the fields, and after staring outside for a moment, he caught a glimpse of the two dogs wandering around and taking in the fresh scents left behind. His ears flattened against his head in disapproval. He had never seen Harpy or Bishop outside of the garden before. As soon as the halter and saddle were on and fixed in place without pinching him, Amy used a stepping stool to climb into the saddle and scratched between his ears. "It's fine, we're just going for a walk to let them exercise." Hakon snorted. Their warm breaths turned to mist in the sharp coldness of the air, and he followed her lead out of the stable. A wren was singing

Literature

[V] Crosshairs | Cacique Tyrant

The rain was lousy and put a damper on Cacique’s mood, coating everything in a thin sheen of wet and cold. Not even the dense pine woods they had come to rest in could protect the Cardinals from the rain as the tricky globs of rain found their way through the sheltering branches to drip on the herd hiding below. The ground was also a mush of dead foliage, bracken and fallen branches. Not the best place to lie down and rest, but for those who needed it they saw little choice in the matter. Cacique flared his nostrils on a deep sigh. It wasn’t just the bad weather that had soured his mood. He was lonely. A feeling that was foreign to him since the Cardinals weren’t known for their friendliness, or being a tight-knit herd. His heart pined for a certain blue doe that glistened like a star. Their meetings were always random and sporadic, and very short lived, but the times they had together were… Fun. She helped him forget his spiteful self that lived to see his father’s inevitable

Literature

[SS] Cavendish

Cavendish let out a slight grunt when he laid down on a smooth patch of rock nestled in the ground, his breath turning to mist in front of him as the cold air started to seep in around him. After walking for so many miles through mountain valleys and frosted pine forests, he finally came across the scrublands that always seemed to look different to him with each passing season. Sometimes it would look lush and green throughout the Summer and Spring when the herds didn't pass through, but when they did it wouldn't be as green or colourful from the flowers that would grow unchecked. But plenty of horses, wild cattle or deer would occasionally make their way through these flat lands and eat what they could. A good choice of pickings for carnivores on the lookout for food. Autumn would depend on the herds, too, Cavendish thought as he watched time drift by in the form of sluggish clouds in the sky and the slow arc and descent of the sun. But Winter would always look the same once the

AnxietyRaptor

Literature

CV || Endurance and Faith

Exhaustion burned, ached, like a thousand insect bites and summer heat, nothing like Shoshone had ever endured. As a hard playing filly she’d been sore before. Of course, a filly can’t always sleep when she’d like, and keeping up with the herd can be exhausting for any young hooves. This second sunrise crept up the sky, hateful to the captured mare's bleary gaze. Birds songs were no more welcome than dew drawn gnats, and the flies they brought that sought her sweat salted scrapes. Impulse flicked Shoshones dark tail across her haunches without a thought. “Mornin’” Nickered an unfortunately familiar and decidedly odd voice. Lips pulled back in a sneer that threatened violence out of mere reflex, the mare did not gift him her gaze instead throwing her head in response. He huffed out a pride bruised snort before shuffling over to a dew soaked patch of fodder. Shoshones own tongue felt dry, and her stomach empty, but all she wanted was to run though her legs were so very

Literature

Accounting of Events || CV

Shoshone did not recall laying down, though her legs had been so sore, so tired. She woke with grass tickling her nostril, ribs aching just the same as her full bladder. How long had she been sleeping in the grass? Sneezing the thought away, the roan mare sat up and opened her eyes to the beginnings of a brilliant sunrise. Long rays of shadow and sunrays across cloud clusters held promises of pinks, and oranges. She could have watched through the morning hours, if not for bodily demands. "Please, listen, M-Maeve," Gillius whispered tightly, shameless pleading dripping from each stumbling word. "No. No thank you sir. We have all spoken more than enough on the matter. Your mare and you have things to work out, and I wont have my filly in dangers way because of her," the mare spoke with a firm finality even in a whisper, though her next words were nearly muttered, "or frankly yourself. S-sir." "Oh, stop that," Shoshone whinnied before rocking back to kick up her forelegs and then

Literature

Exhausted Meeting of Heightened Emotions ||CW||

Was a single mare really worth a multitude of days spent fighting? Maybe. The red stud wasn’t so sure when Shoshone woke from her nap with only a renewed fire in her hooves. Every friendly head dip her way earned him a squeal, even half a step too close had her hind hooves spinning his way. Was there really nothing he could do to warm her attentions? Shoshone knew he did not want to be friendly. He might be a lone stud, but he wasn’t her lone stud. Her Gillius. She’d swear she could smell her stud. The red stranger’s nostrils flaring, head lifted, eased her worry of hallucinations. “Git movin’ girly,” he whistled, head snaking low with ears tightly back. Those bared teeth had proven their bite. “Not a chance,” Shoshone shrieked in response, hooves flying. She knew he wouldn’t allow her time to negotiate. Gillius pale form came over the hill and his mares heart leapt into her throat. A vengeful bite into her haunch had the speckled mare squealing as she kicked out again

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Literature

CV || Albion || The Price of Healing

The fading sunlight filtering through the trees did nothing to ease the fear in Albion's chest. His nostrils flared wide, taking in the scents of the men: sweat, metal, and the sharp tang of chemicals he couldn't name but recognized from distant memories of human stables. "Stay back," he warned, though he knew the humans couldn't understand his words, only his posture. His ears pinned flat as the men circled wide, separating to flank him. Finch lay trembling on the forest floor, his silver coat slick with sweat, the blood from his shoulder wound darkening to rust against his pale hide. The colt's breathing came in shallow huffs, his eyes rolling white with terror each time a twig snapped beneath a human boot. "It's all right," Albion murmured to Finch, though even he didn't believe his words. "Don't move." The tallest of the men was working his way behind Albion now, on his leggy black mare, a length of rope hanging loose in his hands. Albion had seen ropes before; had worn them

Literature

CV || Albion || The Herd Scatters

It was the rifle's crack that set them all moving, instinct driving hooves before brains. One moment, the herd had been grazing peacefully in the sun-dappled clearing; the next, a startled colt was bursting through the trees, tripping over his own feet and sprawling across the grass , his silver-grullo coat spreading red with blood, and the air heavy with the scent of fear. Rusalka leaped first, her tiny white form stiff with intent. "Move!" The word shattered the frozen instant, her voice imbued with an edge of urgency. "All of you, move! Now!" The herd scattered like drops of water on a hot stone. Albion got up and let them run, his black coat standing out against trees as he went not away from but toward the dying colt. He could not manage to leave the leggy colt to face what was coming alone. The scent of Finch's blood hung thick in the air, mingling with the pungent residue of gunpowder that lingered. Sally hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at him, her sides heaving

Literature

Startled Foals

Near noon, the foals enjoyed a rare moment of peace. While the herd grazed nearby, Estera lead the little group of foals through the field. Rina, in the center, was quiet for once, and Pavetta kept pace with Julia at the back. Then the bag appeared. It had gone unnoticed at first, hidden in the brush and weeds at the trail's edge. Until a light breeze caught it, sending it fluttering upward with a harsh crackle. Julia jumped sideways, her red dun roan coat bright in the sunlight as she spun in. "What is that?" she gasped, eyes rolling white and ears pinning flat to her head. Before anyone could answer, the bag lifted free of the brush, bowing erratically on the wind. It twisted like some strange, pale creature, growling larger and smaller as it rose. Rina screamed, a high-pitched whinny that cut through the afternoon quiet. Even the nearby mares startled, the stallion moving to check on them. "Run!" The dunskin roan bolted forward, nearly colliding with Evanna who had frozen in

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LEIA IS HERE

Talvace

Published: Mar 4, 2017

111 Views

Description

My new pup, Leia, came home today! She's sooo tiny! Just SEVEN pound! Jeez that's small. She's a min pin (mini doberman pinscher) and I'm in love with her already... even though she got nervous and pooped on my floor. I forgive you Leia!

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