Chalk White Racing Hands

Well this weekend I'm headed to Williams Lake to cheer on my younger brother in his motocross races! I'm pretty excited to finally be able to see how good he is, and meet some of the people he's always going on about. I think I'm finally going to start posting youtube videos on the channel I've had for ages, though I'm still unsure of what to talk about. Here's a little more writing if you enjoyed the last few....I'm still working lots and I'll try and put most of them up.

Toes bent and chalk white, pushing against the moss covered rocks. Long nimble fingers stretching out to grasp the next shelf. The lonely call of a white wolf rings out through the evening sky; the girl stiffens and cocks her head to the left. She whistles a short tune into the chilled air and slowly lowers herself down to the ground. Three quickly paced steps and she is under the cover of a low hanging pine tree branch, clasping her lips together to keep clouds from escaping into the chilled air. The damp ground begins to shake as a large ship passes mere feet above the tree she is so carefully placed under. Another sullen howl and the white wolf creeps to her side, nuzzling the treat bag held at her side. The girl turns out a hand and lets the wolf take a small piece of rabbit meat, “This is not the time to be found Azril.”

Brother of Mine.

Well I've finalized the plans for my next tattoo, now all I need is the money to pay for it! I'm a little worried about how much it's going to cost because it's a half sleeve, but I know it's what I want and I'll stick to it. Being at home has seriously helped me get back into a writing curve...thank goodness! Hopefully everyone that reads this liked the last piece of writing I put in, I'm still working on it and I'll be sure to put a little more on in a while. For the moment here is something else I wrote a little while ago...enjoi :)

He was dangerous. Dangerous in the sense that, in those moments where I could no longer see or hear him, my heart would often skip a beat. He was dangerous because he could be, every tool that he could ever need was within his reach, every tree that he could grasp the top of was just steps outside our front door. I think it was always helpful that we lived so far out of the town limits, it always seemed to give us the chances that no one else had. We had a sense of freedom that not many feel, a sense of urgency in living our childhood as well as we could. As we grew, he began to change, becoming stronger and braver.

Anthropology of Antherium

Well it's been a crazy and interesting month (and such time). We went to Florid for a week and it was amazing! America (or what little I've seen of it) is awesome! I am now the proud and unashamed owner of a wonderfully magical wand and Slytherin scarf. The heat and humidity was amazing on my weak lungs and greatly improved my health :) I sure hope to go back soon and to be in Louisiana in a short time. I've gottten back into the writing curve now that I'm home and in some fresh air, if only it were a little sunnier and warmer I'd be set! Here's a little taste of what I've been working on, if you're up for it I'd be glad to hear some feedback...

       Oliver had been right, Tatum had only sat down and she was already uncomfortable. The air was stale and too warm, wrapping her arms in a constricting veil that she was certain lived outside of her imagination. Closing her eyes she attempted to focus on the simple sweet smell of the hibiscus flower still clutched in her left hand. Oliver had curled his long fingers around her right hand as he lead her through the bustling castle walls. A hum broke through Tatum's thoughts and alerted her to the arrival of her mother, the Queen of Antherium.