Practice #1 (908 Words)
#1 of Writing Practice
Just a piece of writing practice I thought I might share. The only thing I really set-out to achieve with this was to keep my writing sharp, as well as use my knew Fursona for the first time. Speaking of which, say hello to Sakara, my first attempt at a Fursona, I hope to flesh him, his brother, and his future mate, out to the point of being well-rounded, well-loved characters.
Anyway, hope this kind of makes-up for being so slow with other stuff. There'll be more practice stuff, it'll hopefully flesh-out the character and his world a little better before I start writing proper stories with them.
"You're gonna break your neck." Kuveli whined, tugging on his big brother's auroch-fur cloak. His big brother, Sakara, smiled down at him. They shared a gaze of azure-blue eyes. Then Sakara pushed off the edge.
For a moment all was well. Then Sakara lerched-back, flailing his arms. His ski-poles flew off, sticking themselves in the snow. The foxman fell onto his back.
Kuveli yelped, following after him. Quickly, he too lost balance and landed next to his brother. They turned and shared a look, each of their faces aflame with fur of copper-orange, white, and grey.
"Did you break your neck?" Sakara asked, wrapping an arm around his little brother. The foxkit shook his head, fidgeting in the snow. "Well, I can't feel anything below the neck." Sakara continued, staring back at the sky. Kuveli growled.
"Shut-up, 's not funny!" He shouted, rolling onto his big brother's chest. The foxkit buried his face in Sakara's reindeer-hide tunic, growling to himself. Sakara wrapped his arms around him, lying there for a minute or so more. The snow began to melt and soak into his beaver-hide boots and boarskin leggings. A sign that they should probably get-up.
Sakara sat-up, removing his skis. He then helped Kuveli with his, tying both pairs over his shoulder.
"That's enough skiing I'd say, we've got hunting to do." Sakara trudged through the snow, his hind-paws sinking ankle-deep into the snow. Kuveli trudged behind, clinging to Sakara's tail.
The clearing faded into thick forest. Ancient pine, birch, and alder stand watching their forest. Dead bushes, once ripe with lingonberries, litter the forest. Snow and ice covered everything.
Kuveli wrapped his arms around himself, hugging his bearskin parka tight to his body. The snow stuck to his hare-skin leggings, melting into his beaver-skin boots. Sakara's chest tightened. He reached out and pulled the hood over his little brothers head. Kuveli turned to his big brother, grumbling and struggling to stare out from under the hood.
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Another few minutes passed. Sakara stared up at the sky, cloudless, painted with many blues: Azures, pales, some nearly black.
Something tugged on Sakara's parka. He looked down to see Kuveli kneeling, clinging to his tunic. His little eyes focused on something off the trail. He tugged again.
"Hare." He whispered, looking up at Sakara. The foxman's breath caught in his throat. He dropped to his haunches. His little brother pointed and whispered "There, you see it?"
Sakara followed the tip of the finger to a hare, white as the snow. It's black eyes were in stark contrast to everything else. How had Sakara missed it? It didn't matter. He turned to Kuveli, who's tail lashed and ears were pinned-back. He nodded to the cub. The hunt was on.
Sakara lifted the bow over his head, the rowan was comfortable in his paws, and the rawhide felt nice and taught. He took an arrow from the quiver on his belt. The shaft was of birchwood, fixed with eagle-owl feathers on the end, and a point of fine, bluish slate.
Kuveli took a mess of rawhide from his pack. He untangled it, revealing a long strip of rawhide. At the middle was a sort of cradle. The foxkit then produced a smooth, round pebble, loading it into the sling.
"Go for it, little bud." Sakara put his arm around Kuveli. The foxkit smiled back, rubbing his head against Sakara. With that, Kuveli stood and began to spin the sling over his head. It began to whistle as it cut through the air, causing the hare to turn toward them. Kuveli let the stone fly, watching as it sped toward the hare.
With a crack, the stone hit a tree several paces behind the hare. The hare darted away. Sakara jumped-up, arrow pulled back to his chest. He loosed it. There was a meaty thwack. The hare screeched and tumbled.
Sakara smirked, strumming his bowstring. He turned to Kuveli with a toothy grin, ears back. Kuveli pinned his own ears back, sitting on his haunches and burying his face in his knees.
"I let it get away." He sulked, wrapping his arms around his knees. Sakara's heart sank. The foxman crouched next to his little brother. He put his arm around Kuveli, rubbing the foxkit's cheek-fur with his thumb.
"You did well, I wouldn't have expected anything more." Sakara spoke softly, pulling his little brother close. Kuveli relented and buried his face in Sakara's tunic.
"I still missed!" He hissed, mumbled under the tunic. "Why do I have to use this stupid thing?" Kuveli clutched his sling tight, then threw it to the ground. Sakara sighed, picking it up.
"I know you struggle with it, and I promised to make you a bow when you're ten. Can you wait just two more years?" He asked, pressing the sling to Kuveli's chest. The foxkit pulled his face out of the tunic, gazing up at Sakara, then down at the sling.
"Fine..." Kuveli sighed, taking the sling and stuffing it back into his pack. Sakara gets up, wiping snow and ice from his leggings.
"That's my little bud." He said, reaching down and ruffling Kuveli's head-scruff. The foxkit whines, his ears pinned back and a grin across his muzzle. "Now, we should get this hare home, it'll get dark if we stay out to skin it." Sakara continues, plucking the hare off the ground. Kuveli nods, reaching-up and grabbing his skis off his big brother.