Aww, how very sweet 
I loved it, very nice :clap:
I loved it, very nice :clap:
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Noelle,
It's Princess Mallorn! I love it and it means so much to me that you would take the time to draw a picture
Thank you! Karma for your efforts and I'd love to read your stories anytime :hug:
Storytime! On-going Story Thread
"Chirp." A baby budgie calls. No one appears to be around. He is over a few weeks old, but does not have proper wing feathers to fly, nor the skill. Night time approaches and still no signs of any budgie. He has no choice, but to leave.
He peers out of the opening and notes how he is not too high up in the tree [to decline safely. One. Two. Three. Jump! Thud He takes a quick survey around him, no danger, and no food.
He scramble around trying to move across the vast desert. He notices something off in the distance. A... grape vine? Without question he scurries toward the dry vine. He looks up, and is completely shocked to note a peregrine falcon above!
Please don't eat me. He thinks. Slowly he wearily inched toward the vine.
"Cree!" the large bird calls. Terrified, he looks overhead to see that the falcon now has a friend joining it in a hunt for food. He looks over to the vine a sees he's almost there! Trying not to be noticed by the large birds, he crawls to the vine and nibbles on a slightly dry grape and nuzzles against a branch.
"Cree! Cree! Car-reet!" He takes a rain check on the falcons to see... They were leaving! after a long day, he curls up in the vine, his vine.
:feedback: -Please!!
"Chirp." A baby budgie calls. No one appears to be around. He is over a few weeks old, but does not have proper wing feathers to fly, nor the skill. Night time approaches and still no signs of any budgie. He has no choice, but to leave.
He peers out of the opening and notes how he is not too high up in the tree [to decline safely. One. Two. Three. Jump! Thud He takes a quick survey around him, no danger, and no food.
He scramble around trying to move across the vast desert. He notices something off in the distance. A... grape vine? Without question he scurries toward the dry vine. He looks up, and is completely shocked to note a peregrine falcon above!
Please don't eat me. He thinks. Slowly he wearily inched toward the vine.
"Cree!" the large bird calls. Terrified, he looks overhead to see that the falcon now has a friend joining it in a hunt for food. He looks over to the vine a sees he's almost there! Trying not to be noticed by the large birds, he crawls to the vine and nibbles on a slightly dry grape and nuzzles against a branch.
"Cree! Cree! Car-reet!" He takes a rain check on the falcons to see... They were leaving! after a long day, he curls up in the vine, his vine.
:feedback: -Please!!
This is rather sweet.
Only one thing I'd like to point out is that in the first conversation it goes:
"Rest now little one, there's a storm outside of the box."
"Why not?" he counters.
"Because I love you and you need your rest." She adds as he falls swiftly asleep.
So, the mother bird tells the baby to rest and he answers her saying 'why not'.
In a conversation, that doesn't really make sense, if you know what I mean.
But that's the only thing I have as a 'negative' feedback. It's otherwise very sweet.
Only one thing I'd like to point out is that in the first conversation it goes:
"Rest now little one, there's a storm outside of the box."
"Why not?" he counters.
"Because I love you and you need your rest." She adds as he falls swiftly asleep.
So, the mother bird tells the baby to rest and he answers her saying 'why not'.
In a conversation, that doesn't really make sense, if you know what I mean.
But that's the only thing I have as a 'negative' feedback. It's otherwise very sweet.
I got a sense of jeopardy in this one, which is impressive with a short story.
Perhaps though it may be best to keep posting your short stories in one post. You can detail the type of story at the top of each new message.
it'll be better to have all the stories in one place.
I have to ask though, is this the same budgie as in your other story?
Perhaps though it may be best to keep posting your short stories in one post. You can detail the type of story at the top of each new message.
it'll be better to have all the stories in one place.
I have to ask though, is this the same budgie as in your other story?
That's a sweet idea.
I think it'd be nice to work on a little series of book with budgies and morals and have some cute little drawings with it.
I would say that the moral in this story is to be brave and keep going, even when you're afraid.
Also, I knew what you meant by OC. One of the reason's this took my interest is because I have been involved in fan fiction for a long time and I always like to give feedback and constructive criticism to others. I know it can be tough when you start out writing.
I think it'd be nice to work on a little series of book with budgies and morals and have some cute little drawings with it.
I would say that the moral in this story is to be brave and keep going, even when you're afraid.
Also, I knew what you meant by OC. One of the reason's this took my interest is because I have been involved in fan fiction for a long time and I always like to give feedback and constructive criticism to others.
I know it can be tough when you start out writing.
Storytime! Again!
"Eek! eek!" A now well known budgie calls. InkQuill remembers his first few clumsy flights and his mom... He is now nourished by grapes and finally can properly fly! One thing still bothered him, where did every-budgie go? No-one is here anymore. loneliness filled his forsaken heart.
He flutters toward the old nest to only find it was not used what looked like ages. The last budgie he seen was his mom who flew away before some sort of event he didn't recall. InkQuill gave up testing his wings and flying to stay and comfort his dear mother, but she is now gone.
Tears formed at the brim of his eyes as he took off, into the bright blue sky. Budgies usually cluttered the sky in extravagant formations. Now, nothing but the occasional wisp of a cloud. He had food, grape juice, and a place to call home. What more could he want? He could have any tree-apartment he want. Even a penthouse. Now that he has everything, he feels like he has nothing.
He realizes something that he would trade all the millet in the world for. "I want a friend!" he sobs. In denial and vain, he checks every last tree hollow and ounce of sky with in a 10 yard radius. Nothing. He truly was alone. He sits at the top of a dead tree and allows his emotions to poor out of him like Niagara Falls.
Thoughts of his mom and siblings pounded in his little budgie heart as he screamed out in rage. He could've talked them into staying in the nest while whatever had happened occurred. He, InkQuill, could have stopped this all from happening. He bolts to his vine, eats till he cannot even think of food without getting nauseous and dashed into the shy and flapped his wings vigorously. He will find something.
Hours passed, maybe even a day. He wasn't keeping track. He spots a nest of some sort, and tilts his body so he would head near it, hoping the mother could give him direction. No mother. Just two chicks almost fledges in the pile of sticks. "Hey.. do you know of any thing about a budgie flock that happened I'd say a month ago?" InkQuill asks nervously, a parent of these birds would be furious seeing a potential threat.
"Hmm. Budgie...Oh! we saw a HUGE clump of birdies flying around that look like you!" one chick said in a nasally voice.
"Daddy is coming with food soon, he'll tell you what happened." the other chick said.
"Umm.. Maybe I'll stay. What type of bird are you?" InkQuill asked, chocking on his words.
"Uhh.. Perry.. Perrygrin falcon!" the one with the nasally voice said.
Oh boy. These are probably the chicks of the pairs of peregrine falcons he saw when he first found the vine.
"You know, look at the time! I got to go now! Bye!" InkQuill chipped in quickly.
"No you're not." a low voice boomed.
"Daddy!" the chicks say in unison. InkQuill's heart dropped.
"He's lost. What happened to the budgie flock one month ago?" the calm normal chick asks.
"They migrated. You have a long way to go, buddy." the father bird said coolly. "You can stay with us for the time being."
InkQuill had no words. Did.. did something that could eat him just invite him to stay after invading his nest? On the bright side, his family is alive! The large bird lifted a vine of grapes and fed them to his offspring. He offered InkQuill one, but is to confused to eat.
Ok, a vegetarian bird that can eat him invited InkQuill in.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
After a few days InkQuill got accustom of living in the nest. He helped gather food from his vine to help feed everyone. As it turns out, InkQuill's vine was one of their food sources and they were trying to scare InkQuill away. Good to know. The only thing left was to find the flock, but he couldn't leave. These birds are family now. They nurtured him just like mom. So he decided ,with consulting the parents, to stay until the Budgies come back to breed again.
:feedback:
"Eek! eek!" A now well known budgie calls. InkQuill remembers his first few clumsy flights and his mom... He is now nourished by grapes and finally can properly fly! One thing still bothered him, where did every-budgie go? No-one is here anymore. loneliness filled his forsaken heart.
He flutters toward the old nest to only find it was not used what looked like ages. The last budgie he seen was his mom who flew away before some sort of event he didn't recall. InkQuill gave up testing his wings and flying to stay and comfort his dear mother, but she is now gone.
Tears formed at the brim of his eyes as he took off, into the bright blue sky. Budgies usually cluttered the sky in extravagant formations. Now, nothing but the occasional wisp of a cloud. He had food, grape juice, and a place to call home. What more could he want? He could have any tree-apartment he want. Even a penthouse. Now that he has everything, he feels like he has nothing.
He realizes something that he would trade all the millet in the world for. "I want a friend!" he sobs. In denial and vain, he checks every last tree hollow and ounce of sky with in a 10 yard radius. Nothing. He truly was alone. He sits at the top of a dead tree and allows his emotions to poor out of him like Niagara Falls.
Thoughts of his mom and siblings pounded in his little budgie heart as he screamed out in rage. He could've talked them into staying in the nest while whatever had happened occurred. He, InkQuill, could have stopped this all from happening. He bolts to his vine, eats till he cannot even think of food without getting nauseous and dashed into the shy and flapped his wings vigorously. He will find something.
Hours passed, maybe even a day. He wasn't keeping track. He spots a nest of some sort, and tilts his body so he would head near it, hoping the mother could give him direction. No mother. Just two chicks almost fledges in the pile of sticks. "Hey.. do you know of any thing about a budgie flock that happened I'd say a month ago?" InkQuill asks nervously, a parent of these birds would be furious seeing a potential threat.
"Hmm. Budgie...Oh! we saw a HUGE clump of birdies flying around that look like you!" one chick said in a nasally voice.
"Daddy is coming with food soon, he'll tell you what happened." the other chick said.
"Umm.. Maybe I'll stay. What type of bird are you?" InkQuill asked, chocking on his words.
"Uhh.. Perry.. Perrygrin falcon!" the one with the nasally voice said.
Oh boy. These are probably the chicks of the pairs of peregrine falcons he saw when he first found the vine.
"You know, look at the time! I got to go now! Bye!" InkQuill chipped in quickly.
"No you're not." a low voice boomed.
"Daddy!" the chicks say in unison. InkQuill's heart dropped.
"He's lost. What happened to the budgie flock one month ago?" the calm normal chick asks.
"They migrated. You have a long way to go, buddy." the father bird said coolly. "You can stay with us for the time being."
InkQuill had no words. Did.. did something that could eat him just invite him to stay after invading his nest? On the bright side, his family is alive! The large bird lifted a vine of grapes and fed them to his offspring. He offered InkQuill one, but is to confused to eat.
Ok, a vegetarian bird that can eat him invited InkQuill in.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
After a few days InkQuill got accustom of living in the nest. He helped gather food from his vine to help feed everyone. As it turns out, InkQuill's vine was one of their food sources and they were trying to scare InkQuill away. Good to know. The only thing left was to find the flock, but he couldn't leave. These birds are family now. They nurtured him just like mom. So he decided ,with consulting the parents, to stay until the Budgies come back to breed again.
:feedback:
Noelle, I LOVED it again ! As you mentioned earlier, I like how there are morals that we can identify in there. That's clever, and I love the anthropomorphism with the birds!
Okay, for some feedback... The bolded out words below "she" and "her", I thought that was dad talking? Did you mean to say "he" and "his"?
"Dad, what's wrong?" he asked softly.
"Your mother... Peregrine falcons... They took her!" she managed to say through her tears. What? The falcons are loving, kind, gentle beings... Right? These falcons can't be the one who stole mom...
"Dad, where did this happen?" he asked sternly, but with concern.
"By a.." he had a hard time controlling her grief.".. A nest.. the nearest land mark was a mangled grape vine.. not too far from here."
Also here... When you say "he", do you mean InkQuill himself, or dad?
InkQuill's world came crashing down. He trusted them.
A couple spelling errors, but I know what you meant. No biggie unless you got published, then of course you'd have an editor and proofreader. Overall, I think you have some really good work. Keep it up!
! As you mentioned earlier, I like how there are morals that we can identify in there. That's clever, and I love the anthropomorphism with the birds!Okay, for some feedback
... The bolded out words below "she" and "her", I thought that was dad talking? Did you mean to say "he" and "his"? "Dad, what's wrong?" he asked softly.
"Your mother... Peregrine falcons... They took her!" she managed to say through her tears. What? The falcons are loving, kind, gentle beings... Right? These falcons can't be the one who stole mom...
"Dad, where did this happen?" he asked sternly, but with concern.
"By a.." he had a hard time controlling her grief.".. A nest.. the nearest land mark was a mangled grape vine.. not too far from here."
Also here... When you say "he", do you mean InkQuill himself, or dad?
InkQuill's world came crashing down. He trusted them.
A couple spelling errors, but I know what you meant. No biggie unless you got published, then of course you'd have an editor and proofreader
. Overall, I think you have some really good work. Keep it up!1 - 20 of 47 Posts
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