Posts by .candlelight

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  • * the fish club * turning the world into fish since 2013 * come and join us! >:D





    OHMIFISH
    THAT IS THE BEST THING EVER


    we need to make fish parodies of everything

  • ✞ Thank Starclan... [open]

    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent bordercolor=#000000 borderwidth=0px; border:0px solid #494949; background:#; padding:0px; font-size: 7pt; text-align:justify; width:230px; height:; overflow:;][size=15pt]frenchkit[/size]
    [hr][hr]
    The small she-kit sat a few paces to the side of the nursery, eyes set on the sky. Frenchkit was usually your bubbly, mischievous type of 'gal, but once a week or so she liked to just... think. Off in her own world, the faint sounds of chatter nearer to the freshkill pile brang her back to reality.


    Her gingery brown-and-white head snapped around toward the group, and the 5-moon-old she-kit was soon to get to her paws and trot over to Tempy, Desertpaw and Littlelullaby. "Hiya!" She didn't know the gathered cats too well herself, so she decided to hang a leap or so away from the cats.

  • RIVERCLAN PLOTTING THREAD !



    That would of been really great and thanks for offering, but I might be killing her off... Heheh...


    Most likely will be finishing up some character adoptions though, so yeah... If you're still available then I'll be extremely happy for them to be mentored by December. C:
    [size=7pt]I'm actually quite honored just because you offered cx[/size]

  • purple flowers -- an extremely short story by candle -- may be redone later

    It's 11 pm here and I need to get some revision done tomorrow. And all this other stuff.
    So I quickly decided to write a story. :I
    LOGIC.
    Enjoy! even though it is quite lazily written... I think. :p



    I like school. Of course!
    I would wake up early, get dressed, maybe have a bit to eat, finish some spelling homework and off I go. In some places worn tarmac would make up the roads, but in most cases they were either covered or were just rocks and dust and smaller stones good for kicking around.
    As long as I didn't ruin my school shoes.
    It would be a late sunrise, the sun just above the few trees in the distance, when I would start to sing while I walk alone down the path set by car's long footprints.
    Some songs spoke of home - the baboons, the people, the sunrises. Others spoke of far away places with clear rivers and purple flowers and tall shining buildings. One day I will be the girl among those purple flowers.


    One place that I song and dream about more that flowers and rivers is Heaven. Everone is happy there. Everyone content.


    Nobody cries in heaven.


    The pale sandy rocks would turn orange under the bright yet cold gleam of the early sun, the disc of fire slowly rising, ever rising, into the sky.


    We all have one book and one pencil - how lucky! And our school even has a uniform! Our mothers demand we keep them clean.


    Mr. is a great teacher. He knows a lot. Some days the classrooms would be too full, but I didn't mind. It meant we got to sit under the old tree with high branches and deep roots. Of course, I don't wonder about this tree during class - oh no! Class is for concentrating - but after school I like to imagine the branches point toward the lucky ones. The few the elders chose to go to the Big School, or University as they called it.
    We're lucky to have so much - I spare my pencil and text book as much as I can, because if I lose it it's gone. I shall have to be pencil-less for another month - most likely more.


    Nobody speaks. This is our chance to learn. To gain knowledge. To learn how to provide. Nobody speaks.
    The Mr., in his suit and tie, often needs to pat his forehead with a handkerchief. That suit must be hot.



    [hr]



    I was the one they picked. I went to University.
    I'm standing at the bank, ready to receive my fortnightly payment.
    The sunrises aren't as nice here. They're not a nice cold like at home. The roads are clean and dustless. Naked. No one smiles; everyone works. Works and walks and argues.


    I miss home.
    I wonder if a branch has grown for me, on that big old tree.
    Or maybe they chopped it down while I was gone.


    Like I always do, I send money to my family - cousins, second cousins, third cousins, aunties, brothers, sisters, uncles, parents, grand parents - maybe the teachers and elders this time as well?
    Now I can go buy myself food. Keep everything neat, as mother used to say.



    Now I am the girl among the steel, cold, scentless flowers. All alone.



    I used to be the girl among the purple flowers. I just couldn't see the whole field.