Unicorns vs Flarefoxes part 4

“So where are we headed?” Digger asked as he and the two younger foxes took off.

“We’re taking the scenic route,” said Singe. “Sightseeing.”

“Yes, you’ve said that already,” said Digger. “I just wondered where you’re headed first, and when you plan to stop and rest. It’s been a long night, after all. Surely you aren’t planning to travel much further?”

“We’ll stop when we want to stop,” said Singe.

“We were thinking maybe the lake,” said Spark at almost the same time. Singe threw him a dirty look.

It seems like a good place to rest,” said Singe.

 “Fair enough,” Digger said. “The closest side is a little over an hour from here by air.”

“We know what we’re doing,” said Singe. Digger decided to drop the subject and observe the duo. They had been careful to fly at least a short distance in front of him as though to say “We’re in charge here,” so he had a good vantage point to observe. What stood out most to him was the way they flew. It seemed like they couldn’t quite control the size of their wings, and they bobbed up and down a bit as they flew. They reminded him of young kits who hadn’t quite mastered flying yet.

I have heard of some conditions that can impair a fox’s use of magic, which can in turn make flying and wing control difficult, he thought. But in conjunction with everything else, I’m afraid the real answer might be much more sinister. What if they aren’t real flarefoxes at all? I’ve heard of shapeshifting dragons . . . could the dragons have something against us? The thought scared him beyond words, and he resolved to never let the pair out of his sight. I musn’t even sleep. Now why didn’t they send someone else with me so we could take turns sleeping?

Due to Singe and Spark’s slower flight, it took a little longer than Digger had predicted to reach the lake. The sun was peaking over the horizon as they arrived. The three foxes took a long drink, then Singe and Spark declared they were tired and found an out-of-the-way spot to sleep. Digger lay down a short distance away from them and shut his eyes, leaving one half open. He lay like that for a long time, fighting off sleep himself. As the sun rose, more and more foxes began to congregate near the lake, providing extra noise to keep him awake. His vigil finally paid off when Singe took a peak at him, stood up, and crept over to Spark. Digger twitched one large ear towards them, hoping to catch whatever the duo might say.

Spark said something too low to hear, to which Singe said, “No, not here. There are too many others around. Let’s just go.” Spark nodded, yawned, and stretched, and the pair slipped away.

Digger briefly considered chasing and confronting them, but decided he was more likely to wind up fighting monsters he couldn’t handle than getting information that way. Instead, he slipped after them as quietly and unobtrusively as he could manage.

The first thing he noticed was that they never took to the air. Instead, they kept their wings as low as possible. Digger did the same, not wanting to attract their attention. The other thing he noted was that they took a very winding, confusing path, even splitting up at times and meeting back later. Clearly they wanted to throw off any trackers. Whenever they split up, Digger chose to follow Singe. He seemed to be the leader of this operation.  He nearly lost them a few times when they slipped into crowds, but he always found them again. It wasn’t too hard to pick out a fox afraid of using his wings.

If they’re so afraid of using their wings, why don’t they just shapeshift? I suppose we are out in the open. There aren’t that many people around, and they are keeping to the outskirts and shadows as much as possible, but still . . . if anyone saw them, their gig would be up. Either that, or I’m completely off. That would be nice. I’d rather we were dealing with a rogue bunch of foxes than shapeshifting monsters.

As nearly as he could tell with all the twisting, turning, and backtracking, the two foxes were headed in a northerly direction. I guess it makes sense, he thought. There aren’t nearly as many foxes in the north, so it would be a good place to meet up with others. But there also isn’t nearly as much water.

Indeed, the longer they traveled, the fewer flarefoxes they passed. Sometime after midday they reached an area where no one else was in sight. The sun was blistering hot overhead, and there wasn’t much of a place to hide. Singe and Spark sat down to rest, and Digger melted into the yellow grass, hoping they wouldn’t see him.

“Here’s as good a place as any,” Singe said.

“Are you sure we weren’t followed?” asked Spark.

“Oh, we’ve been followed, alright. Here’s as good a place as any to show our curious tracker our true form. Then we can deal with him.” 

Unicorns vs. Flarefoxes Part 3

Here's the third part to my little short story :) But before I put it here, I have a promise to keep from nearly a year ago. Kristy Tate advertised my book on her blog over a year ago, so I need to link to one of hers. I don't generally read romance novels, and haven't yet read this one, but it looks pretty good :) (And don't worry, she hadn't read mine either when she posted it, so I'm not cheating her by posting it without having read myself!)

http://www.amazon.com/Beyond-Fortunetellers-Tent-Kristy-Tate-ebook/dp/B00H2CA18U/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1400102389&sr=1-1&keywords=kristy+tate

Anyway, here's part three! 

“This is very disconcerting,” said the general as Singe and Spark disappeared into the Healer’s Den. “This isn’t the first case we’ve heard of recently where strange flarefoxes turning up and asking for assistance. I’ve received reports from several other bases and even one or two citizen communities of this happening. And there may be even more of the latter – the only reason I’ve heard of those ones is that the foxes who helped them to tried to verify their stories and couldn’t, so they become concerned. And that’s another thing; whenever we’ve asked them about where they were from or where they were going, they’ve given evasive answers, or ones that couldn’t be followed up. And every time someone has tried to stall or detain them, they’ve escaped.”

“How?” Digger asked, wide-eyed.

“We don’t know. No one can catch them doing it. They just . . . disappear, and we can’t even follow their scent. So I have a task for you. I know you’re new, but I think that will work to your advantage. It should make you seem less threatening. I need you to offer to escort them home. No, don’t just offer. Insist. Make it seem innocent, but don’t back down. Obviously they will try to give you the slip. Don’t let them until you’ve determined what their up to. Hopefully they will be less careful around you because they will see you as inexperienced. Which you are, but I trust you can pull this off. We need to know if they are a rival group trying to take over our territory, or even something more sinister.”  

Digger shuddered at his words. “I’ll do what I can,” he said.

Later, as he watched the stranger foxes leave the healer’s den, he reflected on just how non-threatening the pair looked. They laughed harmlessly at some private joke and playfully nudged each other, then gave him a smile as they noticed him. And yet, in a way, that makes them all the scarier, knowing what I know now, thought Digger. He swallowed his fear and sauntered over to them, doing his best to look non-threatening himself. Small smile with no teeth showing, ears pricked to show confidence, tail swinging slightly.

“Hey guys,” he said, “I’ve been assigned to escort you home. Hope you don’t mind.”

Singe and Spark glanced at each other, and Spark shifted a little.

“I think we’ll be okay,” said Singe.

“Ya,” said Spark. “See, thing is, we were planning on taking the scenic route home. You know, make a few stops on the way? We’d hate to waste your time like that.

Digger put on his best brotherly demeanor, smiling and sauntering over. “Oh, come on,” he said. “I’d think after that forest attack, you’d appreciate an escort. Especially if you’re going the scenic route.”

“Uhhhh, no,” said Singe in a firm tone. “Come on, let’s go,” he said to Spark. The pair started to walk off.

Clearly they didn’t like the big brother effect, thought Digger. Time to try a different approach. He ran ahead of them and turned to face them once more. This time, he kept his head lowered and wrapped his tail protectively by the side facing them. “Look,” he said. “To be honest, I’m really new here. I think they’re just assigning me to you guys to get me out of their fur for a while. It’s not like they expect you to really need any help. They just need to give the new guy something to do, you know? And it would be niceto get away for a bit. Conversely, if you don’t let me come, I may lose my position for disobeying orders, and that’s no good. So do you think I could come with you? Please? I won’t be much trouble.” He tried his most winning smile, once again being careful to show no teeth.

The other two looked at each other once more, and Singe sighed, then turned back to Digger. “I suppose you can come,” he said. A threatening note entered his voice as he continued. “But there will be no bossing us around, no telling us what to do. Even if it’s for our safey. We’re on something of a vacation, and we won’t have some adult telling us what to do. Understood?”

Digger nodded.

“Good,” said Singe. “Now, if you need to do anything, do it fast. We’re leaving.” 

Unicorn vs. Flarefox Part 2

Digger soared back and forth along his section of the southernmost border of flarefox territory. He guarded the edge where the open plains ended and a forest began. The long shadows cast by the trees under the light of his fiery wings creeped him out, just a little bit.

 “Don’t panic,” he thought to himself. “No one has bothered us from this forest in pretty much forever. Certainly no one will on my first night. That’s why they send the newbies to patrol here. It’s the quietest portion of the desert.” Still, he couldn’t help but think of all the horror stories he’d heard about this particular forest. Rumors of all kinds of bloodthirsty monsters filled his mind: prowling, three-headed wolves, ever-hungry panthers, and even more unspeakable beings. Get ahold of yourself, he thought. You didn’t join the border guards just to chicken out on your first night. Still, it might not be a bad idea to land and dim my wings. It’s hard to see into a dark forest when you have a bright light on your back. My nose is a lot better than my eyes, but it can’t hurt to be able to see as well. He landed and shrunk his wings to their smallest state—little more than a spark.

Now that he was on the ground, he kept moving at a trot to keep himself warm. He kept his nose to the air, sniffing for anything strange. His large ears twitched constantly. So many smells flooded his nose that it was hard to pick them apart, but he knew that with time he would learn to differentiate them. He’d already come here a few times on training missions to familiarize himself with all the scents and sounds.

Eventually he did start to smell something . . . different. He couldn’t make it out at first, but it quickly resolved itself into the scent of other flarefoxes.

Now why did it take me a moment to realize that? He thought. My nerves must be more jumbled than I realized. Jumbled enough that I’m sitting here thinking about it, rather than calling out to them to find out what they’re doing in the woods in the first place. Probably a couple of dumb kits on a dare. Except . . . it smells like one of them is injured.

“Who goes there?” he called out loud. Who goes there? Really? I sound ridiculous. “Don’t you know that these woods are dangerous?” he called again.

“Tell us about it,” a masculine voice said. Two foxes exited the woods, one supporting the other, who was dragging and injured back leg. “We had a run-in with . . . well, we aren’t sure what it was. He got his back leg torn. I cauterized it with heat from my wings once we got away, but he’s too shaken up and in pain to fly. Oh, my name’s Songe, by the way. And this is Spark.”

“Oh my goodness,” said Digger. “We’d better get a healer to look at your friend and make sure there’s no further damaged beyond what you cauterized. Then we may need to talk about what attacked you. Did it seem like a wild best, or is there any chance it was something more sapient? Someone that might be planning to attack us?”

“It smelled like a plain old bear,” said Spark. “We had our wings at little more than sparks so we wouldn’t start the forest on fire, so really, any wild animal could have mistaken us for a snack. We didn’t have them lit enough to scare anything off.”

Digger gave them a weird look. “You do realize you can control any fire you create with your wings, don’t you? You should be able to keep from burning the forest down. “The other two just looked at each other, and Digger shook his head. “Never mind, let’s just get going.”

Snippits and book signings

Hello all! Just wanted to announce that I will be doing a book signing on December 20 outside Eborn books in the Provo Towne Center mall. Leading up to it, I'm going to start posting a short story on here about the war between the unicorns and the flarefoxes. I ask you all to remember as I do that this is only very lightly edited; it hasn't been through everything I did with my book before publishing it, so please don't read it and think that all my writing must be unpolished! This is just for fun :) Although, I am always open for any critiquing of it you care to give ;) Anyway, here''s the first part. Hope you enjoy!

     Sharp-hoof shuddered a little as he watched warrior Blunt-horn approach the unicorn chieftain. Even among unicorns, Blunt-horn had a brutal reputation. Not quite brutal enough to exceed the chieftain’s own, perhaps, but still. Sharp-hoof wasn’t sure he wanted to know why the warrior had called this meeting. He wished he didn’t have to be here.

     Blunt-horn approached the chieftain and bowed so low his curved horn almost touched the ground. “Sir,” he said, “I request permission to lead an army to engage the flarefoxes.”

     The chieftain snorted and shook his massive head. “Even for you, this is foolhardy, Blunt-horn. Absolutely not. You know I, as much as anyone, itch to engage them. That their territory is so close to ours and yet so untouchable haunts my dreams. But open desert simply is not conducive to our fighting abilities. We rely too much on stealth. In the open we would be slaughtered.”

     Blunt-hoof’s mouth curved up into a sly grin. “What if I told you I’ve mastered full-body shapeshifting? I could teach it to all your warriors, provided their magic is strong enough. Just think of the possibilities. To have the more delicate of our warriors trade their unfortunately feeble frames for that of a beast far stronger. To have our most cunning take on the forms of the foxes themselves and infiltrate their camp. The flarefoxes need not ever elude you.”

The chieftain’s face changed to match Blunt-hoof’s own. “That would make all the difference,” he said. Sharp-hoof shifted, uncomfortable at the turn this conversation had taken. “You have a concern, Sharp-hoof?” said the chieftain.

     “Well . . . meaning no disrespect, Sir, but yes,” said the younger unicorn. “What have we to gain by fighting the flarefoxes? Even if we conquer them, what then? We aren’t built to last in the desert, so it would purchase us no more land. It would give us nothing that we need. We’ve already conquered so many others—we have miles upon miles of forest and all the riches it has to offer. Even the phoenix pays us tribute. If we attack the foxes, mightn’t we just be inviting unneeded trouble? Besides, flarefox territory is all too near dragon territory. And that is trouble we don’t need to invite.” He shuddered.

     “And who’s to say we couldn’t take on even the dragons?” said the chieftain. “We are warriors!” He stamped his hoof.

     This from the unicorn that moments ago thought we couldn’t even take out the flarefoxes,” Sharp-hoof thought, but didn’t dare say anything else out loud. The chieftain continued to address him.

     “I will brook no arguments on this. Understand, young nephew, that land is not the only thing to be gained from war. The flarefoxes may have many reassures that may be of use to us. Perhaps some rare desert plant that cures ills, or imbues power. Or perhaps nothing we can use directly, but that could be traded for something else of value. We could even force the foxes to labor and fight for us. You must think outside the box. Others will always have something you don’t. Always. If you have an advantage, you attack. That’s the only way to survive in this world. Understood?”

     “Yes, sir.” Sharp-hoof took a step back and bowed.

     “Now,” said the chieftain, “All warriors are to begin training with Blunt-horn immediately. Those who master the art will be rewarded. Anyone else who complains or rebels will be given much more reason to complain. Is that understood?”

     “Yes, sir,” said all the unicorns.

     “Good. Get to work.”     

Edits complete

Well, I've uploaded the edited Kindle copy of the book. Now I just need to get the edits into the hard copy. This should be interesting . . . Thanks for your patience everyone!

Lessons learned the hard way

So I'm in the middle of trying to recruit reviewers for a blog tour, and in one e-mail I sent I included a little defense of myself as a self-published author because I was requesting a review from a group who rarely do self-published books. I feel like I've put enough time, care, and effort into my book for it to have been published the traditional way had I chosen to go that route; if I didn't, I would never have published it at all. I wrote and rewrote and had it edited by multiple people and fixed it again. I had as much of it as I could read through in writing groups and bounced ideas off of other authors and made adjustments based off of their input. I took writing classes and used the skills I learned. I put a lot of work into this book, and I told them that while I understood if they refused on the grounds that it was self-published, but I'd appreciate it if they gave it a chance and, if they refused, refused based off lack of time or interest and not publishing methods. (I hope I didn't come across as snotty.) Well, shortly after I'd sent the e-mail, my mother-in-law came' in and pointed out to me what has to be one of the most glaring errors in publishing history. Three words, "Dismiss the insult," randomly placed at the end of a paragraph with no apparent connection to anything. I must have created that error somehow after my editors had gone through the book, because there's no way they could have missed something like that. So now it's confession time.

I hate to read my own writing. I should have read through the thing one last time to check for things like that (and anything small that the editors could have easily missed), one last time before publishing the book. I had ample opportunity to do so, but I'd read my silly story too many times and really, really didn't want to read it again, so I trusted that anything serious had been caught and that I hadn't created any other problems like that while editing and formatting and published the book without a last read-through. Well, I've learned my lesson. Never, ever, ever, ever again. I do not want to give a bad name to self-publishers, and I hope I haven't already destroyed my own reputation before I've had a chance to really build it.

Okay, so maybe that's a bit dramatic, but that's how I feel right now. You don't usually see mistakes like that in books published through any respectable corporation. The odd wrong or misspelled word here and there, maybe, from time to time. After all, even their employees are only human. But not a random phrase like that . . . sigh. So I've taken my book off the market for now to fix it and give it a good read-through to check for any more errors. Hopefully it will be up again in the next few days. And eventually I will look back on this and laugh. For now though, I think I want to go curl up into a ball with chocolate.

Why "Optional First Chapter"?

Since I'm sitting up with a wakeful baby anyway, I thought I'd address a question that no one has asked me yet but that I'm sure people will. Why title my first chapter "Optional First Chapter?"

Well, Chapter Two was originally my first chapter, minus a bit of explanation that is now given in the new first chapter. I loved the idea of starting it that way; I felt it was exciting and attention-grabbing. But every time someone would read that first portion of my story to critique it, they were left feeling confused and wondering if I hadn't given them the beginning of the story. So, after talking with my sister-in-law, I decided to write a prologue to give the readers a little more information to start off with. I tried to make it engaging and interesting, but wasn't sure I'd done as good of a job as I wanted. Then I read some writing advice that warned against prologues. And I have to admit, I feel a little put-off by books with lengthy prologues; I want to get to the story! But my prologue wasn't one set in the past, or from the point of view of some other random character. It could easily just be chapter one, so I made it that. But it still wasn't as engaging a beginning as I felt the now Chapter 2 was, so I decided to title in "Optional First Chapter," I figured maybe that would amuse readers a little, and if they found it too boring they could just skip ahead. And if they got too lost, they could go back and read it knowing that there was more interesting stuff ahead. So there you have it; my weird logic behind the first chapter :)