Fable

The Howl In The Woods
It was a quiet night, not unlike most nights. The wind flowed through the branches of the looming trees, frogs croaked down in the creek bed, and crickets chirped a lullaby to lull those who listen asleep. I laid in bed listening to the sounds of the night, my eyes grew heavy as I began my decent into sleep. A faint sound that I have never heard came from outside my home. My eyes shot open, no longer being weighed down by sleep. I sat up and looked toward the window in my room. My room had a few cloths on the floor, a nightstand right next to me, and a window to the far left wall, with a desk and a chair on the windows right. I gazed out of the window, wondering what caused the irregular noise. The moon shined down onto the front of the house, the tree line was void of anything that could have made the noise. I almost thought I was just hearing things, until I heard a more audible sound. A howl cut through the night. This time I knew I wasn't hearing anything. Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to get out of my bed and investigate the sound. I put on a jacket, a pair of boots, a lantern, and a lighter. I walked downstairs, through the kitchen, and out the door. The sound of the gravel beneath my boots, caused all noise in the air to disperse. Before I lit my lantern, I looked up at the black sky, littered with stars shinning as bright as the moon. I lit my lantern and continued down the gravel path. I walked for a couple minutes, listening out for the howl. I reached the gate at the end of the path, opening it, and continued into the woods. The gravel path made a smooth transition into dirt, allowing the sounds of the woods to return, even louder than before. It felt as if the very forest itself was alive. Another howl, sounding much closer, shot through the air along with the whistling of the wind. I turned toward the howl, and walked off the trail. I was determined to find whatever was howling in the woods. I walked through the forest, stepping over fallen over trees and brush. A sound came from behind, I spun around and looked up into the trees. A barn owl sat upon a branch, cooing as it turned its head in curiosity. I unknowingly mimicked the bird. The birds head returned upright, as well as lifting its wings before taking off. As it began to fly, another howl came from deeper into the woods. The barn owl followed the noise, and I followed suit. I began to pick up pace to keep up with the owl, feeling as if the bird was connected to the howling. I continued to run until ran into a clearing. Bioluminescent mushrooms littered the area, some of which were bigger than normal. A boulder covered with moss colored a pinkish blue, sat in the middle of the clearing. What sat on top of the boulder though, was truly a sight to see. A wolf with speckled fur that shined just as bright as the stars. With turquoise eyes, and horns like like an elk, the shined slightly less than its fur. Small leafy fines were strung across the horns of the wolf. The barn owl from earlier flew above the wolf, landing on a looming willow tree above the moss covered boulder. I looked at the wolf, I felt connected to it. The wolf and I met eyes, and I felt as if it was looking into my soul. After a couple seconds of the wolf looking down at me, it turned to the sky, and my eyes looked up to the sky as well. The moon was above the clearing, causing all of the mushrooms to glow brighter. Lights from the mushrooms floated out and landed on the ground, growing more, smaller mushrooms. The clearing became brighter with every new mushroom. It felt as if it was a dream, but with every light that brushed passed my arm or leg, reminded me that it wasn't. The wolf howled into the night sky. With a final glimpse at the majestic creature, my vision became blurry, and I closed my eyes. Birds chirped as rays of golden light shined in through my window. The rays of light shined in my eyes, waking me up. I sat up, tired as if I had been asleep for the entire night. I checked the clock across the room, it read 9:00 AM. The memory of the night before began rushing back, I got out of bed and starting running back out into the woods. I just had to confirm that what happened last night wasn't a dream. I ran and ran until I made it into the clearing. Mushrooms littered the area, but none of them glowed. A boulder was in the center of the clearing, however the moss was green in color. I stood their baffled at the discovery, until I heard a coo from a nearby tree. I looked up into the tree, and a barn owl sat on one of it's branches. It tilted it's head in curiosity. Unknowingly, a smile grew on my face, finally knowing that the night before, and the howling in the woods, wasn't a dream.
By Jordan4 years ago in Fiction
Mountain of Destiny
Legend has it that “The Excalibur” has been protected by an ancient owl, a barn owl at that. It is said to be 30,000 years old. Thousands have sought after the sword for many ages. Many have challenged this myth with hopes to obtain the saber, but no one has returned. The Excalibur is located in the mysterious Mountain of Destiny, where the sun never shines, and the clouds never rain. The totality of darkness and weather conditions alone has scared off many to even dare challenge the legend. But could it really be that hard to defeat a barn owl? My name is Yogen which means “Child of Prophecy” I am from the Catawba Clan. The Elders of the tribe have constantly warned the villagers to stay away from the mountain, unless they too wanted to perish. Obtaining The Excalibur has been a dream of mine since I was a child. I was often teased and mocked for even thinking that it was attainable for me, but my faith never waivered. Time after time I watched the toughest of men go to the Mountain of Destiny. I’ve also watched their families grieve because they never made it back to the village. But still the sword was calling me, and it was my time to prove exactly who I was. I had to claim what was mine!
By Edwin White Jr4 years ago in Fiction
Bluebells. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
1 ‘I went over this on the phone.’ ‘I just want to confirm the details.’ Mark pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Olive skin. Dark brown hair. She’s… I don’t know, average build, I suppose. Just over four foot tall. She’s tall for her age.’
By Ellie Scott4 years ago in Fiction
Tar River
There is a land where Mountain Sprites live and play. They are very magical and proud beings who live on top of this enchanted lush green mountain called Mount Morris. Other sprites live in other parts of the land, but the Mountain Sprites only have vague references in their oldest lore to such other sprite existence.
By Beth Fisher4 years ago in Fiction
Tar River
There is a land where Mountain Sprites live and play. They are very magical and proud beings who live on top of an enchanted lush green mountain called Mount Morris. Other sprites live in other parts of the land, but the Mountain Sprites only have vague references in their oldest lore to such other sprite existence.
By Beth Fisher4 years ago in Fiction
Pebbles' Playland
Once upon a time, there lived a very cute, very loveable little dog. Her name was Pebbles. She was the cutest little dog in the whole kingdom. Everyone loved Pebbles, for she was so nice and so kind to all. Animals from all over the kingdom would travel from far just to come to play with Pebbles and her new toys. She was so loved and she so loved everyone, that after a long day of playing she would give everyone she played with a new toy. After so much playing Pebbles always had to clean up the big mess that would be left behind by all of her kingdom friends. No one ever stayed to help her clean and that would make Pebbles very sad. She thought that because everyone loved her and because she always gave everyone a toy that they would stay behind and help her clean too. But no one ever did. Of course, this didn’t stop Pebbles from treating everyone with love and kindness. “No matter what, they are all still my friends.” Pebbles says with so much joy. One morning when it was time for Pebbles to awaken from a long night’s rest, she heard knocking, she stretched all of her little tiny limbs and ran down to answer the door. “I wonder who it could be this early in the morning?” Pebbles asked herself. As she pulled open her front door, she poked her little head out with a big smile. “Good morning, how can I help you?” Pebbles asked happily. And there in front of her was someone new, someone, she had never seen before. It was another small dog. “Hi, I’m Daisy, I’m your new neighbor from one kingdom down.” She grinned. Pebbles stared at Daisy for a few seconds, then smiled and reached out a paw, “lovely to meet you, my name is Pebbles, welcome to my enchanted kingdom.” Pebbles replied. “Would you like to come in? It’s a little early, not quite time for all my guests to arrive but you are welcome to join me for breakfast if you like.” Daisy looked at Pebbles as she walked past her to enter her very beautiful home. Pebbles closed the door and walked past Daisy to lead the way to the kitchen. As she passed, she noticed Daisy looking at her up and down and not in a very nice way at all. But as we know Pebbles is a very kind dog, so she just continued to walk and talk. She explained to Daisy how she has all of her friends from all over the kingdom to come play with her and her toys every day. Daisy watched and listened as Pebbles went on and on about all of her good deeds and how much everyone loves her. As Pebbles continued talking, Daisy started to not like Pebbles more and more. “I think I better be leaving now!” Daisy shouted over Pebbles while she spoke. “Leave? Why you will not be attending my gathering today?” Pebbles asked with such concern. Daisy told Pebbles that she had to take care of her very sick mom and that is why she couldn’t stay. Pebbles walked Daisy to the door and out the gate and told her to have a very lovely day. “Well, she was very nice.” Pebbles told herself. Pebbles hurried back up into her house and continued to get everything ready for all of her friends.
By VANESSA MARTINEZ4 years ago in Fiction
A Boy and His Familiar
His mother and father were murdered by the hands of the mortals when he was very young. He had no pictures of them, just a few sketches his older sister had drawn from memory to stop him from crying so much at night. As his age and grief grew older, his sister would tell him stories of their late parents during morning walks along the misty cyan lakes and dying lavender fields.
By Fiona Nneka4 years ago in Fiction
Sunday Mass
The still peace of the warm Sunday morning was abruptly disturbed as a little girl ran as fast as her legs could carry her down the street. Of course, being Sunday, no one was out on the streets or in their shops. Rather, the majority of the town, save for some degenerate drunks and other unsaintly characters, were all at morning mass.
By Seth Corry4 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of a birdsong
Lark stretched her arms wide and high as she sat upright on a bed of feathers and straw. The previous day's travel had been long and cold, rain soaking her hooded coat as she rode atop the grey Stallion that had been her one companion during the past year.
By Georgie4 years ago in Fiction
Jars Of Talents
A large disfigured oak tree stood at a strange slant just outside Julia's hidden shack. The shack was black and bore a musty smell. It smelled of moss and filled your mouth with a sour, bitter taste. It had the potential to be beautiful but felt sad with overgrown vines and tall weeds all around it. Julia allowed it to look unpleasant to discourage people from snooping. She, of course, lived in The Spanish-style house with wooden shutters down the road with the friendly neighbors who fetched her newspaper every morning. But when the night fell, Julia often snuck away to her little shack, where she put on colorful cardigans and danced around with freshly brewed coffee.
By Thalia Bello4 years ago in Fiction
The Edge of the Wood
A note from the author. This piece of fiction is an exercise in non-gendered writing in relation to a single character. The child who the author wanted to portray as undefined in gender is referred to as They/Them. This was a very fun exercise as it proved challenging to re-structure sentences with more than one subject and in doing so to clearly identify whom is being spoken of in each phrase, or to have a sentence convey that a single person was being spoken of while using the They/Them pronoun.
By 01100101-01110111-011001014 years ago in Fiction
The Life of a Barn Owl
Once upon a time, a Barn Owl passed, but before it passed. The life of this owl was difficult, but also fascinating. It started with an egg 1.5 inches long and 1.3 inches wide in. With a mother that always protected him and sang to him every night. Before it went off to sleep.
By Anthony Allen4 years ago in Fiction