Mooncalled 35“That went well,” said Arwen, startling Donna.
Donna slithered around in a circle and faced Arwen. “Yeah, I guess it did. This place is as much my home as the one Duncan lives in. Doing this work is good. Fulfilling.”
“How’s Dia holding up?”
The scales at Donna’s throat flared and became pure crystal. “We are doing well,” chimed the crystal. “For now.”
“In about four hours the Moon is going to set. We are not looking forward to giving up our power, and becoming... less.”
“You have been through that before,” said Arwen. “What is different now?”
They sighed, Donna and Dia as one. “Gwen. She held our hand the first time the Moon left us. Her strength, her confidence... Gwen was our storm anchor, and we are adrift from humanity.”
“Humanity is all around you,” said Ar
Half-Dragon Solis, Chapter 4
Chapter Four - I'm Probably Crazy
We waited in tense silence for awhile, not even Yorka sneaking a bite of food. My appetite had gone.
You and Charman said it was safe here, right? I asked Teyaan with something of a nervous laugh. That hasn't changed, has it?
The others are always hunting us. Teyaan replied without emotion.
But they can't get here. That's what you said. That's the only reason I'm in this stupid place.
He did not reply, and I sank slowly into my seat, staring at the doorway through which Charman had disappeared. I couldn't stop seeing the creature that had attacked me earlier, clawed and dark-blooded and terrifying. Were there more of those about? Were they inside the building?
Several more minutes passed in an almost unbearable tension. We heard no more noises, but Charman did not return. Finally Yorka got up from his seat. "I'll go see if he's all right."
"Yorka, are you sure ?" Patricia stammered, halfway getting up
Half-Dragon Solis, Chapter 1
Chapter One - Crazy or Half-Dragon?
Right from the first day, being part dragon had never been pleasant. Oh, sure, it might seem like some fantasy geek's dream come true, but take it from me, the whole thing is much closer to a nightmare.
Let's see if I can explain this.
Friday night I was a regular, slightly pudgy guy, and by Saturday, I looked like a giant lizard on steroids. You know what? I hate scales. I hate them. They rub against each other all the time, whenever you move; it's almost like wearing chain mail. Except it's attached to your skin.
Oh, and then there was the actual dragon I'd merged with, who had a nasty habit of arguing with me inside my head.
This is a ridiculous mode of transportation was his current complaint, as I rode my bike down the street. Thankfully, being half dragon comes two-for-one with basic shapeshifting abilities, so I was able to revert mostly back to human form when I wanted. The bad news: I still had two plates of ar
Knights of the Grey City 01
Chapter 1 - CALL
Under a thousand tons of ink-black water, I could breathe.
The cool of it pressed down on me, but I wasn’t cold. The faintest traces of light drifted down and revealed a blurry waterscape, black stones and wave-smoothed bricks and broken statues.
I was the only thing living, but the loneliness was comforting. It was like someone hit the mute button of a million screaming background noises, which I had slowly grown used to and stopped noticing before this moment. Now it was finally quiet.
I moved forward effortlessly, gliding across the seafloor. It seemed I was travelling through ruins, though the imagery was strange and disjointed. Classical Greek statues, robed and elegant, lay beside more modern brass sculptures of war heroes. Empty frames rested in the rubble, shredded canvases rippling in the currents. There was a stronger s
Frost Bite"I can't go back to yesterday- because I was a different person then."
The storm was getting worse, and I still had no shelter. My fingers and toes were numb despite the thick, heavily insulated boots and mittens I wore. The wind tugged at the hood of my parka and found every gap in my clothing, chilling whatever skin it touched almost instantly. The beam of my headlamp revealed nothing but a cone of swirling snow and fog. I had lost my bearings a long time ago; now I was stumbling blindly through the blizzard. Anyone can tell you that the first rule to follow when you get lost is to stay put, but at the moment staying put would mean freezing to death.
Every step I took was against hip deep snow. Moving would only become more difficult as I used more of my energy. With a mounting sense of fear I swung the beam of my headlamp back and forth , frantically looking for someplace safe. The weather would only get colder as the night wore on, and I would have no chance of
AerieYet again it was time for plowing. I dreaded this time of year since it meant that I would have to work next to the horses for long periods. Once, I had asked my father why he did not plow while I cleared away the rocks. He had replied that I was too young to be doing such heavy work. I wasn’t sure about that, but I was not one to argue with him.
So this year, like every one previously, he hitched up the horses, lined the plow up for the first furrow, turned to me as I stood off to the side and said, "Alright, all yours."
I stepped forward, took the reigns, and like every year that I could remember, the horses instantly began blowing and stomping nervously. "Go ahead,” my father encouraged. So I started. Reins hooked around my neck so that my hands were free to guide the plough, grip on the handles just tight enough to keep it under control. With a click of my tongue, I ordered the horses forward. Except the horses didn’t wait for any kind of order.
Pages The sound of a pen scratching against paper was the only sound in the room,
echoing strangely against the stone ceiling of the walls and roof. The walls were covered
in books, books of every size shape and description written on every material imaginable.
Metal, paper, stone, silk, wood, glass, crystal, books written in sand held immobile in
special containers. Millions of characters in hundreds of languages. The knowledge and
histories of dying races. Some were already dead.
His task was all the more important because of it. The task of translating and
organizing. He had been laboring for longer than he would like to think about. So long in
fact he could not even remember his own name with any certainty.
Only the vast, hollow emptiness of the chamber and the thunderous and terrible
ReflectionsGroggily I jumped down from the top of the bunk-bed where I slept and walked toward the bathroom in the hall, sidestepping what toys I could and wincing when I stepped on the ones I couldn't. My little sisters not only made their own room look like a small explosion had occurred there, but they spread inevitably to the rest of the house. At least they kept out of my room for the most part.
I really hate when I have the kind of dream that wakes you up in a cold sweat, but you can't remember anything about except that you were terrified. Fortunately my dreams are usually the ones that resemble some kind of a movie/real life crossover written by an intoxicated author.
This one had been a little of both, or at least I think it had been, since my mind at three in the morning was not up to anything besides getting a drink of water. The bathroom was lit by the streetlight outside. I have no idea why they stuck one on a street as out of the way as the one my house sat on, but it's there anyway
Chapter 3, FullChapter 3:
At least fifteen long, strenuous minutes had dragged by since Blizzard had followed Sari out into the mountain. She had been wandering around the tunnels, repeatedly losing her way in the fog of her augmented reality. Nothing Blizzard said could snap her out of the dream-like trance; Sari was blatantly ignoring their mother’s death.
With every step further from the cave, the world surrounding the two young dragons grew bleaker. Every other hallway bore blood smeared walls and was dotted with a broken corpse. Some displayed no sign of a fight, while other’s bodies were ripped apart, blackened by scorching fire, and dismembered, among a host of other gruesome fates. A sharp knife of sorrow pierced Blizzard’s heart for those who were not blessed with a quick, painless death, while an ever increasing rage boiled underneath his skin against those who had committed this atrocity.
The two young dragons
Hey! I'm not here anymore! I've moved!I keep getting new followers here so I thought I'd say that I have moved to FA permanently so I won't be active here, art-wise. I still pop in now and then.
Changed Accounts!!Hello! Just wanted you ask to know that I have changed accounts! You can now find me at :iconblackdragontfart: although I might decide to revisit this one at some point. But really, I'm much more active over there.
I should really get back to drawing Karsten and Kade and all my other OCs here XD
MusingsAs you all know, I haven't drawn transformation art for quite some time now. It started as merely a break out of necessity since I had exams and the like but now, coming back to it, I have reached
I'm not sure if I can do it anymore. I don't know if this may seem sudden or unprovoked but I just don't have the same passion for it that I used to. I also don't know what this will mean about the LCF, so I suppose I'll be engaging in a bit of discussion on that front. RaiinbowRaven prepare for lift-off.
I still owe veldoodles a comic for winning the competition a while back (Yes, I am aware of how overdue it is and I'm sorry!) so I will give it one last shot. Apart from that, I am very uncertain of drawing transformation art in the future. Not only am I beginning to break out of that phase and look to other things but I'm also afraid that the type of audience I can potentially gather from TF is just... Far too limited. There are only so many people out there who
How long have you been on DeviantArt? Roughly 2 Years
What does your username mean? A moving were-creature.
Describe yourself in three words. Hungry, Bored, Quiet.
Are you left or right handed? Right
What was your first deviation? An April Fool's event.
What is your favourite type of art to create? Abstract
If you could instantly master a different art style, what would it be? Photorealistic Digital
What was your first favourite? A tails (from Sonic) character
What type of art do you tend to favourite the most? Dragons
Who is your all-time favourite deviant artist? leccathufurvicael
If you could meet anyone on DeviantArt in person, who would it be? I have no clue.
How has a fellow deviant impacted your life? They all affect my imagination.
What are your preferred tools to create art? Photo manipulation tools
What is the most inspirational place for you to create art? At the computer
What is your favourite DeviantArt memory? I don't have one.