Sta.sh
for other deviants. We need YOUR help!
So for the next few days, I want to send a thank you back to you all... I originally planned to do this during Valentines Day, but other stuff got planned then... So let's do it now 
(Yes there's a lot more then 33, but that's all I can do for now...)
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Thanks for understanding 
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Today's Feature was selected by the following deviants:
`WDWParksGal , ~Magic-fan, and `TimberClipse
Twisted Prologue----AltThe wind ran for miles along the planes of shifting sands. There were no bushes to decorate the eroded horizon and the seemingly large mountains of sand could disappear in only an hour if the gust changed directions. It was dusk, and the desert valley couldn't have been less inviting. Dunes began to hide in the fading sky when the winds kicked up in a swirling motion. The breeze seemed to be singing to something dark, yet ambivalent; something that responded to the call with an authoritative whisper.
A clear voice rang out into the desert and commanded the sands to form a whirlwind; they obeyed instantly and an abyssal pool opened from the g
Kroshka Moia, Chapter OneChapter One:thumb210106308:
Mutti's hands are cold, Ansel. Help me warm them up…"
An explosion of shouts erupted from outside, sending torrents of cries that murdered the silence that once ruled before. The young Schütze's eyes snapped open and he sluggishly rolled to his side, finding himself back in the tent. At first, his surroundings were nothing more than splotched colors swaying back and forth. He carefully sat up, a hand hovering an inch over his eyes. The words grew louder; one of the voices sounded familiar. Sitting still, he felt around for anything to help him stand. His fingers brushed against the rough wool of his blanket, the biting
Tales of the ForbiddenPrologue
Bitter winds ripped sands across the gritty desert plain, covering the fallen warriors and plaguing the living. It bit into bleeding flesh, stinging the injuries of people conscious enough to care. A wounded man clad in tattered white robes stood in the center, amongst those not yet fallen.
The stench of rotten flesh infested his nostrils; fighters who fell early enough for the scorching sun to hasten their decay. Others fought well into the night. They battled for survival and revenge for their fallen comrades. The sand beneath his bare feet caressed his skin, coloring crimson as blood trailed from many wounds and soaked into it.
Past Articles
Informational Article
Day 30 • Day 29 • Day 28 • Day 27 • Day 26 • Day 25 • Day 24
~Rickbw1
Jul 15, 2011
