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Ghost's tail(preview)
10 years ago
tell me what you guys think. This is a chunk of the first chapter, and I'm open for suggestions cause I like the general plot I have, but don't know where to take it
All I remember is panic; pure, simple panic. I also remember the trees of an unknown forest zipping past me as I ran. My labored breath and limp slowly making it harder and harder to run. I don't know why I was running, but I know I was running for my life.
What other reason would a person have to run as fast as I was and with the gut retching feeling of utter despair? Why else would I constantly glance over my shoulder to see how close my inevitable death was?
All I know for sure is I kept running as fast as my paws would take me but I was my ragged, panicked breaths came faster and more desperate as my pace gradually slowed. I don't know how long I was ran, but it seemed to last for hours, and the sound of hooves kept getting closer.
I stopped, and turned to see a dark silhouette of a horsemen approaching fast. I bent down and picked up a few sizable rocks. If I was going to die I was determined to fight with every ounce of strength I had left.
I bared my teeth and growled and saw the dark figure reach back before a whoosh echoed throughout the forest. A sharp pain shot throughout my chest and my muzzle twisted in pain. Warm blood flowed through my fur as I clutched the arrow protruding from my chest. I fell to my knees, and gave one last helpless cry for help before all went black.
My eyes shot open as I grasped my chest and desperately gasped for air. I sighed, and relaxed as I realized it was just a memory, but my breath was still labored and my tail still flicked back and forth, "It was just a dream, it was just a dream," I whispered to myself until my muscles relaxed and I my heart stopped racing.
My recurring dream from the day I died still haunted me Two hundred years after that faithful day. I still have no clue what I did to be hunted down, or who I was, but it doesn't matter anymore; the dead aren't meant to ask questions anyways.
All I remember is panic; pure, simple panic. I also remember the trees of an unknown forest zipping past me as I ran. My labored breath and limp slowly making it harder and harder to run. I don't know why I was running, but I know I was running for my life.
What other reason would a person have to run as fast as I was and with the gut retching feeling of utter despair? Why else would I constantly glance over my shoulder to see how close my inevitable death was?
All I know for sure is I kept running as fast as my paws would take me but I was my ragged, panicked breaths came faster and more desperate as my pace gradually slowed. I don't know how long I was ran, but it seemed to last for hours, and the sound of hooves kept getting closer.
I stopped, and turned to see a dark silhouette of a horsemen approaching fast. I bent down and picked up a few sizable rocks. If I was going to die I was determined to fight with every ounce of strength I had left.
I bared my teeth and growled and saw the dark figure reach back before a whoosh echoed throughout the forest. A sharp pain shot throughout my chest and my muzzle twisted in pain. Warm blood flowed through my fur as I clutched the arrow protruding from my chest. I fell to my knees, and gave one last helpless cry for help before all went black.
My eyes shot open as I grasped my chest and desperately gasped for air. I sighed, and relaxed as I realized it was just a memory, but my breath was still labored and my tail still flicked back and forth, "It was just a dream, it was just a dream," I whispered to myself until my muscles relaxed and I my heart stopped racing.
My recurring dream from the day I died still haunted me Two hundred years after that faithful day. I still have no clue what I did to be hunted down, or who I was, but it doesn't matter anymore; the dead aren't meant to ask questions anyways.
I can't think of anyways to make it better, but I do want to see more of this :D