Tuesday, 28 April 2015

ANZAC Day ~ Marching in the Band

So I have deemed the day post worthy! Now where shall I start? At the beginning...

I woke up (I know, it's amazing) and thought about all those poor people out at 4 in the morning doing the dawn service, poor, poor them....

A bit before ten Clare and I drove to where the band was meeting. Only problem was that there was a massive traffic jam. We had to be there at ten so I was sitting in the car going, "Hurry up cars, just hurry up!" it didn't really work. I must mention that I was wearing my formal uniform which consisted of: a long sleeve white button-up shirt, black trousers, my red band vest, the random tieish kind of thing, and some 'nice' black shoes and socks. Not really my style...

Look at all that lovely red and black and white.

Eventually we got there and parked the car a bit down the street then started running up the road. Then a friend of ours (let's just call him Cal) jumped out of his car and started running with us (may I just mention that he was also in band and also running late). I heard later that he and his dad had been driving slowly and looking around to work out where it was they were meant to be and then his dad saw Clare and me so Cal got kicked out of the car to follow us because we looked like we knew where we were going! We only kind of did.

Me! I'm very glad that I didn't look as weird and uncomfortable wearing these as I felt...
But we found everyone else fairly quickly and Cal and I had to grab our music and our hats (lovely sailor kind of hats...again not my style) and get to our places. Then since some people hadn't arrived yet I had to change lines and moved around and it was a bit confusing but I ended up stuck in the middle of a row of Saxophones. When we were about to move off the extra-late people turned up but there wasn't time for everyone to move around again so the late ones just had to march up the back.

The person in the middle is Cal...well his back at least.

So we marched along the street, I'm quite surprised how much I played, and I only got out of time once for a step of so! One drummer dropped his drumstick but luckily he could get a spare from the person beside him. It was a bit random walking/marching along and then going, "Oh, look at that, someone dropped their drumstick..."

Me marching..and frowning...I was concentrating very hard as you can see.

I enjoyed the marching and playing, I'm not so keen on the counter marches (look it up if you don't know what that means) when we have to walk right between two drummers and it's just so loud. I don't know how they stand it! 

After the counter-march.

After we finished the march we sat down...and sat down....for an hour....in between the sitting we did have to play a few songs like 'Oh God our Help in Ages Past' and the Australian and New Zealand national anthems. During the space between the playing everyone got hot and one person decided that at the next band meeting they'd request for band singlets and shorts to be made! My fellow flute player and sitting-next-to-me person for some random reason asked me what year I was in...after some thought I said 8, and the look on her face was so funny. Apparently she didn't realise I was that old. I'd better not forget to mention that during this time my photographer sister was climbing a tree to get better photos...well she was until she realised that if she could see everyone that meant everyone could see her...Ah, Clare, you are funny sometimes...

You can't actually see me in this one, just my hat if you look closely.
I'm in the second row 'cause I'm a second flute.
(For all you unmusical people out there that means I get slightly different music.)

Last night at band practice at the hall she (my friend) still hadn't gotten over it. She kept saying, "You're not that old" and "My sister's in year 8 and all her friends are so old, but you aren't!" and one really cool thing she said was, "You're not like any of those teenagers out there" waving her arm around the room at several of the other people. I was like, thanks so much! I don't want to be like them! It was really cool. I think she's one of the people who'd call themselves Christian, once when I brought up to subject of church she said she went to church sometimes. But it's quite interesting the things we have in common, we both like medieval weapons and reading and other things like that.

So that was my ANZAC day, I hope it wasn't too boring, I've probably forgotten something extremely interesting and will remember as soon as I've published this post...but by that time it will be too late, so Fare Thee Well!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Friday, 24 April 2015

Dusty Red ~ Part 6

We have come to the 6th instalment of Dusty Red. My apologies for the slight shortcomings it contains as it was all whipped up literally in a few hours before lunch today. It took me ages to decide what should actually happen..but I have now so that's all good. I also apologise for the lateness in the day....

Well, it's ANZAC Day tomorrow and since I'm in the town band I'll be doing the main march, I wasn't brave enough to do the dawn service at 4 in the morning, scorn me if you like but I'm not doing it. But the march should be interesting, there may be a post about it on Monday, it depends how interesting it actually turns out to be.

Now that I've finally got around to writing I hope you enjoy and, as always, I'm looking forward to your comments. Number one it is! Yes...The random misty rocks...and guess what! My characters have finally found the Misty Mountains!

They were surrounded by huge blocks of stone, looming out of a cloudy wet substance that obscured anything further than a few meters away.

Flicks walked to one stone and placed her hand on the rough surface. A soft murmuring began, seeming to come from all around her. Flicks jerked back her hand and the chilling sound stopped, echoing into stillness. She looked over her shoulder, Ron looked rather green in the face and Kendal’s expression was one of fury, or was it fear?

Flicks walked slowly around the stone. It was grey like any other rock, but the size was impossible, like a giant’s debodied leg. She reached out towards the stone once more, but she stopped, frowning, her hand just centimeters from the stone. A whistling sound came faintly to her, at first distant but getting steadily closer.

Somehow it reminded Flicks of herself.

Flicks peered through the shadowy mist and caught sight of a bobbing light coming nearer. She glanced at the others again, her heart beating faster, Ron was now slumped against a tree stump and Kendal just stood staring at the stone closest to him as if it would eat him alive at any moment.

The light was even closer and Flicks pressed against the stone for shelter. She jumped back again as the whispers began. The light abruptly stopped moving, Flicks could now see the dark shadow of the person holding it, “Who’s there?’ a voice called, strong and clear. Flicks shivered, the voice also sounded strangely familiar.

The figure came closer again until they were only a meter a way from Flicks, who’s heart was beating so fast now she felt it would just stop.

It was a girl standing in front of her, about the same age and size as Flicks. The girl looked Flicks up and down for a few seconds before she spoke again, “And who might you be?”

Flicks stared back, “I…I’m…Flicks Tiller…I suppose…”

The girl raised her eyebrows, using the exact expression Flicks had when Ron was talking about his magic potion. “You suppose? Have you forgotten your own name?”

Flicks shook her head, ‘No, I haven’t, it’s just I’m a little confused right now,” she hesitated. “Where are we?”

“We are in the middle of the night, in the middle of the mist, in the middle of the stone circle, which happens to be in the middle of Rocos,” the stranger said. “My name is Skilf.”

“I see…” Flicks said, her thoughts whirling so much that her mind was fit to burst.

“How and why did you come here at this time of night?” Skilf asked, her green eyes curious.

“We…well, I’m not entirely sure, you see, we just kind of  appeared here, through that hut thing,” Flicks stumbled over her explanation, knowing how bizarre it would sound. 

Skilf looked at the old stone hut thoughtfully, “I see,” she murmured mostly to herself, repeating exactly what Flicks had said just before.

Ron had regained his feet and approached them, “Who do this be Flicks?” he asked with a sniff, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Her name is Skilf,” Flicks answered, still half in a daze.

Ron surveyed Skilf then he frowned, “Excuse me, but do I be knowin’ ye? Ye look a bit familiar some’ow.”

Skilf shrugged, “Beats me, ‘cause I don’t know you.”

Ron’s eyes suddenly widened, “That’s ‘o ye be like! Ye look like Flicks!” 

He was right.

Flicks stared at Skilf who stared back, the expressions on their faces identical. But so was every other feature. “How?” Flicks shook her head in wonder, what in the world was going on?

“I didna recognise ye at first ‘cause o’ yer clothes and ye aint go no hat. But ye be as like as twins! Skilf my eyebrows, if I didna know better I’d think ye were Flicks!” Ron looked from one to the other in a mazement.

A growl came from behind them, “What’s this? Two Flicks? Well, isn’t that a prize,’ Kendal had recovered slightly from his shock and now his lip curled in a sneer. “Now since the ‘twins’ are reunited perhaps we should try get out of this godforsaken place.” He nearly shouted the last words.

Kendal stomped over to the hut and crashed through the hole in the wall, a frightened light came into Ron’s eyes again that had been dispelled by the surprise of their discovery, and he followed Kendal. Flicks shrugged at Skilf, and they both trailed after the others.

Inside the dust caught in their throats and in the hazy light they tripped over several times. Kendal reached were they’d come from first and looked around. A hole in the thatch roof showed the stars above them, faint through the thin fog, but all around there was nothing of interest, no doors or holes or anything. Kendal kicked the side of the hut in frustration sending splinters of thatch raining down from the roof. Flicks shook her head to get the bits of hay out of her red hair, her double mirrored the action.

“How about the roof?” Skilf suggested. She’d realised by now that these were no ordinary travellers, and the girl Flicks was looking anxious. Besides, she wanted to get rid of Kendal as fast as possible anyway, she didn’t like the man.

Kendal turned a sarcastic eye on her, “Young lady, you may not be aware but I don’t want to get to the stars.”

Ron shrugged, his face pale, “We can at least be tryin’ it oot.”

Kendal snorted, “Silly idea really, I suppose you’ll be wanting me to do it?”

Flicks pursed her lips, “Well, it shouldn’t be too hard, you should be able to jump and grab it.”

“But if it’s too tricky I’ll do it,” Skilf added.

“I’m everyone’s slave now am I?” Kendal growled, glaring at Skilf, but he jumped anyway, grasping the wooden support beams and pulling himself up. He balanced there and stuck his head out the roof.
His boots thumped on the ground as he jumped back down, “Nothing,” he said, “Just what we can see from here.” Kendal’s voice was dangerously low now. “Maybe the fool that got us here in the first place can get us back out again,” he glared at Ron who glared back, 

“I were tellin’ ye it be volatile but ye didna listen!”

Kendal narrowed his eyes, “Are you saying this is my fault?”

But before Ron could reply Flicks interrupted, “You said there was nothing? So there’s no way out?” Flicks stared at Ron and Kendal her eyes wide, already knowing the answer.

They were stuck, in the middle on the night when it was supposed to be day, in the middle of some strange cloudy, wet stuff, in the middle of a lot of massive rocks, which just happened to be in the middle of some place with some weird name that none of them had ever heard of before.


And the options...

1. Skilf blinked and then stuck out her bottom lip, lifting one shoulder, “Well, how about you all come with me to the town. It’s quite nice there and we can think about what to do then.”

2. Ron’s mouth opened and closed for a few seconds then he burst into tears again, “All my experiments were wasted! Now I’ll have to live out my days in a freezing place with rocks and clouds for company!” Flicks knelt beside him and patted his shoulder, Skilf stiffened, holding up a finger for silence, and everyone heard the scuffing, sniffling sound that came from outside the hut. Skilf bit her lip and when she spoke her voice was a hoarse whisper, “Wolves.”

3. A loud trumpeting call echoed around, Flicks winced at the amount of noise. A frown crossed Skilf’s face and then her eyes widened, “The invaders!”


I've been having a little trouble deciding what kind of world they've got themselves into so I'm leaving that up to you as well!

A. Science Fiction

B. Some random Fantasy realm

C. Medieval kingdom


So you have a great decision on your hands, you even get to decide what the world is like! Feel the power and don't let it go to waste. Comment and vote for your favourite options. Hope ya have a nice day!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Monday, 20 April 2015

The Battle of Swords Has Begun...

A very serious duel...

I swing my sword in a glittering arc and my opponent parries it skillfully. Our swords clash repeatedly, mine sometimes striking on her golden shield. My opponent is retreating fast and I advance, apparently gaining the upper hand, even if I only have a sword and she has a shield. But then my opponent uses unfair tactics. With surprising speed she spins her double handed blade and sinks the point into my knee. I say "Ouch!" and hop around on one leg for a few seconds and then the duel is recommenced...

True story...minus the glittering swords, sinking in of the point into my knee and the skill Sarah (my friend - and opponent in this particular duel) and I were apparently wielding them with.

Me hopping around on one foot due to a (not) serious leg injury 
All weaponry was made by the master swordsmith I believe I have previously mentioned. If you want to see how he made Sarah's sword he's done a blog post on it recently. 

But all this started with our Bright Lights Group (a discipleship thing for girls) having a singing-at-the-old-peoples-home-day-whatsitcalled-thingamajig.
There were ten girls, me included (Oh and my two older sisters were part of the ten - they're the leaders) who went, and it was all good and fun. When we got back everyone left except for aforementioned Sarah and her two littler sisters. Their mum had gone to do something or other, and so we played a card game while we waited for her to return. When she did we hadn't quite finished the game, and so she decided to drive up to the neighbours (also friends of ours) and left her children to walk up after her.
But...(here comes the interesting part) Sarah had brought her new sword and shield (I'd already seen her other 3 swords) to show me and we had a duel (already described) before they left. Swordsmith Zach had already made me a nice battle sword - perhaps a little too long for me but who cares...

Then we walked with them up the road, Sarah and I seemingly cutting our heads off by the way we were carrying our swords. My younger brother Samuel had got the cardboard shield I made for him out of a cake tray thing, and was carrying it around to match us. 

When we got to the neighbour's place, the mothers were talking so we randomly started fighting again. At one stage I was fighting Samuel; he had his shield and Sarah's sword (which was about as long as he is tall) I had my sword and Sarah's shield. But then Sarah and Zach's youngest sister started attacking me with Zach's two little knife things (a saxe and throwing knife). At first she was just trying to 'stab' me but then she started throwing them at me which made it harder for both of us. I don't know how many times I 'killed' both of them, but they never seemed to die.

Fighting 2 people at once really isn't as easy as it looks

There was one really cool time when I was standing around with just my sword and youngest sister of S+Z threw a knife at me. I was totally not expecting it and just whacked it with my sword instinctively. And I hit it! It's amazing how satisfying it is to do something like that.

See the knife sticking out of my foot?
(Actually it's still flying through the air and lands in between my feet)

Yeah...I'm pulling a really weird face...
Then we started throwing knives at the shield we'd propped up a few meters away. We hit it a few times and then 12 year old neighbour number 2 (in order of their age she is 2nd of three. There isn't two 12 year old ones though) well anyway, she decided that the shield was too low so I, being the only one brave enough and having enough confidence in my own abilities (such as my hand-eye co ordination), offered to go and hold it. (I may have forgot to mention these weapons are made of wood, they aren't real. I'm not that stupid.)

So there I was holding the shield by the edges (sadly there are no photos of this)....until Neighbour number 2 hit my finger with the knife (rather ouch) and I started holding the shield in a slightly different way. 

The knife flies through the air and...Hits the shield Sarah is hiding behind!
(At this particular time I was the thrower)

I only had to duck once, and it's a good thing too, because otherwise the knife would probably have hit me in the head if I hadn't. After a while I started moving the shield around so the knives actually hit it...but then...one of them...hit it a little hard...and you know...every action has an equal and opposite reaction...in other words...it broke....
But luckily it shouldn't be too hard to fix, it only needs a little super-glue. 

So we stopped throwing knives and I stopped being a target, but in the words of the swordsmith, the two swords had seen better days...namely...yesterday (well now a few days ago now, but saying "namely Wednesday the 15th of April" doesn't sound quite as good)

But all in all it was a really fun time...we'll have to do it again some day soon. We could add in some archery and that would be even cooler. Or maybe we'll just have to sing at the nursing home more often...

On Friday my injuries were: one greenish grey finger courtesy of the throwing knife (very interesting - at least the finger is, not the knife), a blue wrist from a sword, a bruise on my ankle from Samuel, and I don't think I even got a bruise from my first war wound in my duel with Sarah. And what's more my sword didn't break (yay!) So all in all I'm pretty pleased with the result!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

P.S. All photos courtesy of my sister Clare (who is a really good photographer among other things) And thank you again to the swordsmith...You do a much better job then I could.

Friday, 17 April 2015

Dusty Red ~ Part 5

We're already up to five? I've posted every week for that long? Wow! I'm amazed, I hope you are too. You don't know how lucky you are. Maybe this story thing was a good idea.
I would tell you a little about my week, but not much has really happened except for a mighty battle. But you'll have to wait until Monday to hear about that as it was too long to be put here. Every one would just get sick of waiting and just skip to the story!
But enough about that now, I don't want to keep you waiting anyway. This time option 2 has been voted in. Enjoy!

From behind her, in the house, Flicks heard a shout and then she was flung forwards as, in a crash, the door disintegrated in a massive explosion, the likes of which Dusty Town had never seen.

Her forehead slammed into something hard, something that crunched at the impact. Flicks fell to the ground as splinters flew through the air.

When silence fell Flicks found herself looking right into someone’s face, a face with a rather smashed looking nose. She pushed herself up off Lars and turned to look at old Ron’s house. The door was beyond saving, most of it lying in splinters around her. Dust still floated in the air as she peered inside, temporarily forgetting Kendal. Would old Ron be alright? 

Flicks took a hesitant step inside, then with no warning whatsoever, another explosion rocked the ground, sending Flicks reeling against the wall. A flying piece of wood hit her forehead and she crouched down, arms raised over her head.

When the last rumble echoed away she stood, her head spinning. Flicks stumbled forward, where was Ron?

She had come to like the old man, and he was basically her only friend. Could it be possible he was still alive? What had made the explosions anyway?

Flicks coughed as the dust clouded around her, and she stumbled forward, well aware that another explosion could blow her to smithereens at any moment. Luckily there were no more, and she found herself by old Ron’s work desk in one piece. And there, hunkered under it she saw Ron.

“Ron? Are you alright?”

The huddle looked up, “Flicks! I’d be thinking you’d gone!” Ron crawled out from under his desk and brushed himself off, “It just be a few failed experiments…” he trailed off, looking around him, seemingly just noticing the wreckage.

“I suppose you didn’t mean to destroy your house?” Flicks said, smiling weakly.

“No…I…I….Didnna….” Ron suddenly burst into tears.

Flicks stared for a moment or two, then she patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

“It be ruined! All my work! All the rust!” Ron’s voice was despairing between his sobs.

“Ron, really, just get hold of yourself. If we work together we can fix your house and your contraptions as well.” Flicks picked up a few bits of metal off a chair and pushed Ron down on it. “Just calm down,’ she admonished him, “Are you hurt?”

“Ruined…all ruined….” was all he said.

Flicks stood back, her head ached and old Ron’s exaggerating was getting difficult to deal with. She put a hand up to her forehead, her fingers met with a rather large bump. At that moment her vision swum and she grasped the table for support.

Old Ron immediately stopped his muttering and stood up anxiously, “Goodness me! You be hurt old girl! Here, you shoulda be the one as is sittin’ down.”

Flicks shook her head, blinking her eyes to clear them, “No,” she replied weakly, “I’ll be fine.”

Ron looked at her unsurely but then nodded, ‘If you be sayin’ so.”

“What made the explosions?” Flicks asked.

“Weel, I’m not entir’ly sure. It could be that,” he said, gesturing to a corner. “Or at least, what that was.”

Flicks looked where he was pointing and raised her eyebrows in spite of herself,  “Was is definitely the word to use. What did it use to be?”

“It were a heater. To heat the room when it be cold.”
Flicks was incredulous, “When does it ever get cold here? Surely you could think of something better.”

Ron glared at her then said, “Weel yes, I was working on it and I be just about to test it when it goes,” he waved around the room, “Boom!”

“You can say that again,” Flicks shook her head, wincing as it throbbed. 

“Well, look at this! A nice mess it is I must say,” Kendal’s voice came from the door.

“weel, what’re ye doin’ ‘ere?” Ron frowned, “I ain’t gonna ‘ave no bisness with the like o’ ye.”

 “Maybe you don’t have a choice,” Kendal growled, “You ‘n me have a score to settle, and the kid as well.”

“What ha’ you got aginst Flicks? She hasna done nothin’ to ye,” Ron protested.

Kendal didn’t reply, he just walked over to the bench, his eyes running over the books that still lay there, half covered in bits and pieces. He rummaged around for a few seconds and lifted something up. It was the jar apparently containing the magic potion.

“Hey!” Ron yelled, “You be puttin’ that there thing down. It be an important experiment!”

“Experiment is it?” Kendal sneered, “Just like the one that did this?” He waved the hand holding the bottle around the room.

Old Ron winced, “Careful wi’ that, it be highly volatile!”

Kendal lowered his hand, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, weel, it means…” he trailed off, scratching his head thoughtfully, “I think it means it be some‘ow dang’rous.”

Flicks looked at him in alarm, “If it’s so volatile then why were you going to empinar it?”

Both Ron and Kendal looked at her in bewilderment, “What’s that meant to mean?” Ron asked in wonder.

Flicks smiled, “It’s Spanish. It means drink. Hacer usted entender?”

The incomprehension on their faces made Flicks want to laugh. Kendal shook his head, “But we’re getting distracted, I want to know what’s so special about this jar of coloured water.”

Ron looked indignant, “It ain’t jest a jar o’ water! It be verra important and ye need to put it down afor you break it and ruin it jest like ev’ry thin’ else.”

“But what makes it important?” Kendal asked, “It better be valuable otherwise I’ll get yer friend Flicks in trouble fer smashing my mate’s nose.”

“Ye’ll do what?!” Ron asked incredulously, “And jest ‘o would be makin’ the trouble. I’d bet it’d be yerself as did it. Flicks couldna break some uns nose! ‘Specially not a big fellas like your friends be.”

 “Just tell me what this is or I’m going to smash it!” Kendal roared in Ron’s face.

Ron stepped backwards hurriedly, “Erm, it’s a potion…yes a potion….I made it by…”

“What does it do?”

“It…weel, it…umm,’ Ron shrugged, “I havena worked that out yet. I be workin’ on it though.”

“Well, I think you’ll just have to be disappointed,” Kendal smirked, and with all his strength threw the jar to the floor.

“No!” Ron yelled then everything exploded in a flash of fire-like light.
Flicks opened her eyes, dim light surrounded her. She was lying on her back on something hard. It smelt strange, not at all like dry dust or heat. It was cold, very cold. She stood and looked around. Nearby Ron and Kendal were doing the same. The light trickled into the otherwise dark room through a large hole in the wall of crumbling stone. Flicks stumbled towards it, she heard the sounds of the others behind her.

The gap was wide enough to walk through and she did so, lurching into the more open space.
Kendal followed her, Ron behind him. Flicks just stared.

Kendal’s breathing sounded like a bellows, “Where are we?”

Flicks shook her head, leaning against the wall, her face showing her bewilderment.

Kendal turned to Ron, “What happened?” he snarled. Ron simply looked around open mouthed.

“What have you done?!” Kendal yelled, his voice rising almost to a shriek, “You idiot old man, where are we?”

Ron just continued to stare about in utter confusion, where ever they were, it wasn’t Dusty Town. They were…


1. Surrounded by huge blocks of stone, looming out of a cloudy wet substance that obscured anything any further than a few meters away.

2. In an ancient mansion, the walls hung with cobwebs and not a sign of life other than themselves.

3. In a beautiful garden, flowers of every colour blooming around them, and the leaves of the surrounding trees a beautiful golden red.


I hope that was long enough for every one. I'm not actually even having trouble writing 1,000 words, not really as hard as it sounds. This one was 1,263 words, give or take. 
I can't wait to see what end up happening next. Just choose your favourite and comment to vote!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Friday, 10 April 2015

Dusty Red ~ Part 4

Hey there Readers! I hope you're ready for the fourth instalment of Dusty Red. This one is quite a bit longer - 1062 words (Just for Clare) 
Happy Easter by the way! I've had a fairly normal week, but that doesn't mean I don't have anything interesting to tell you.

On Monday we went to the movies and saw the new Cinderella thing, and I really enjoyed that. I liked the Prince, he was actually a person, with a life of his own, not just the handsome Prince who sweeps Ella off her feet. And the hairy dogmother was hilarious...oh, I mean the fairy godmother.

Also, on Wednesday nights (fortnightly) my sisters and my Dad go out for bible-study and my Mum and I have a special time together. This Wednesday we watched Pirates of the Caribbean number 1 which I had lots of fun watching (I like swords and ships and that kind of thing). I spent about half of Thursday listening to or playing PotC music. I'd already been given the music book as a late Christmas present (I got it in January), but now it's much more interesting because I can picture what happens as I play!

But now, I'm getting distracted. This post is about dust and horses, not water and ships....so Story Ahoy!

Heavy footsteps approached and, after a moment's hesitation, Flicks vaulted into the stall with Dust Storm. She crouched in the corner, covering herself with a bit of hay.

The door swung open and someone entered although Flicks was too low to see who. The footsteps came nearer and she struggled to suppress a sneeze as the hay dust tickled her nose.

A wide brimmed hat came into view and then a face, Flicks froze, hoping that Derron wouldn’t notice her. Derron stepped towards the stall and peered at Dust Storm who promptly snorted in his face, making him take a step backwards. 

“Hey Kendal,” he shouted, “Is it just me or does this horse look familiar?”

Flicks pinched her nose and held her breath resisting the sneeze that threatened her. Of course it looks familiar! You’ve seen every horse in dusty town before, so they all do!

An angry shout came from outside and more footsteps as someone, presumably Kendal, approached the stable. Flicks hardly dared to move as Kendal’s face appeared, his narrow eyes squinting at Dust Storm.

A slow smile spread across his face, “Yes,” he drew out the word as if savouring it, “It’s young Tiller’s horse, or I’m a goanna.”

“Aye, thought it might be,” Derron said nodding, “That means she’s here somewhere.”

Flicks felt the sneeze growing stronger and felt sure she could suppress it no longer. Kendal turned, Derron following him out of the stable.

Flicks sneezed.

The sound seemed abnormally loud to Flicks, echoing off the walls and sounding more like an elephant than a person.

“What in the world!?” came Derron’s exclamation of surprise.

Kendal turned on his heel and strode towards the stall in which Flicks sat curled in a ball. Flicks felt a hand on her collar and she was hauled up out of the stall and deposited on the floor, she was on her feet in a second.

Her first impulse was to laugh aloud at the astonished expression on Derron’s face, but she looked at Kendal and went cold at his satisfied smirk.

“Well, well, what a nice surprise Tiller,” he said shaking his head, “You are very good at ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“So are you, Kendal,” Flicks replied.

“And how might that be?” he asked scornfully.

Flicks raised her eyebrows mysteriously, “You’ll find out soon enough.” She actually had no idea what she was talking about but it might do her good to make Kendal cautious.

Kendal scowled and grabbed her arm, “Perhaps you should come with me,” he ground through his teeth.

Flicks considered resisting but she realised she hadn’t much choice as Kendal dragged her out into the open. Lars stood next to three horses tied to the front of old Ron’s shop, he looked up in surprise as Flicks stumbled into view.

“What was she doin’ here?” he shot the question to Kendal.

Kendal stopped in mid stride and turned to Flicks, “What were you doing here?” he asked frowning.

Flicks shrugged, “Not much really,” she said truthfully.

“You’ve been up to mischief I’ll warrant. Tell me now, what were you doing?” Kendal’s face was only centimeters away from Flicks’.

“Really, I was doing nothing, I was about to leave as a matter of fact.” She tried to pull away but Kendal’s grip on her arm stopped her.

“If you weren’t doing anything why were you hiding in the stall?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers.

Flicks swallowed, her heart racing, she wished she wasn’t so close to the troublemaker, his clothes stank of sweat and muck and his breath of beer. “I was just…” she swallowed again, what explanation could she give? 

“Just what?” Kendal’s voice was barely a whisper.

Then inspiration hit her, “I was just doing what old Ron told me!”

“What?” Kendal seemed confused and he released her arm, Flicks stepped back hurriedly out of reach, “Why did he tell you to hide in the stable?”

Flicks shrugged, “How would I know? He certainly didn’t tell me.”

Kendal narrowed his eyes and stepped forwards again, Flicks copied the movement but stepping backwards instead, remaining out of his reach. “Since when did anyone do what that crazy old man told ‘em? He yer friend?”

Flicks felt a flash of consternation; she didn’t want to deny the old man, she liked him, but at the same time admitting might make him a point of attack for Kendal.

“He’s,” she hesitated, “An acquaintance.”

“Ahhh,” Kendal smiled, “So ‘e is yer friend you just don’t wanna admit it. D’ya think I might hurt him if I knew?”

Flicks closed her eyes momentarily then looked back at Kendal, “Yes, I did.”

A beast like growl erupted from the man’s chest and he clenched his jaw in anger, “Who do you think you are to say things like that?” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“No one,” Flicks replied, “But it’s the truth.”

“You are saying that I would attack a crazy old man?” Kendal roared into her face, “Well you’re right, I will! Just as soon as I’ve finished with you!”

He lunged forward but Flicks was expecting him, she jumped backwards so he stumbled and almost fell. He stepped forward again, Flicks skipping a few paces back, keeping a safe distance away.

How did I get myself into this? she asked herself, after all these years of avoiding this and now multiple times in one day!

Kendal sprang forward again but Flicks dodged to the side and began running. She may have got away but for Derron. He jumped forward and seized her shoulder, pulling her backwards and off balance. Kendal was there in a moment; he grabbed her arms and literally threw her to the side.

Flicks crashed into the door of the house, the breath knocked from her and her legs trembling. She nearly collapsed and probably would have but Lars, who had joined in the action, pinned her to the wall with a strong forearm.

Kendal stood in front of Flicks his face red with anger and his eyes wild.

Flicks, still breathless, waited helpless for the attack, wishing fervently that she hadn’t come to town in the first place. But she couldn’t do anything about it, so she stood, knowing to be ready for anything.

But she certainly wasn’t ready for what actually happened.


1, 2 or 3? That is the question....

1. The door opened and Flicks fell backwards, landing with a groan at old Ron’s feet.

2. From behind her, in the house, Flicks heard a shout and then she fell backwards in a crash as the door disintegrated in a massive explosion, the likes of which Dusty Town had never seen.

3. A shrill whinny arose from one of the horses and even Flicks turned her head to see what was wrong.


How has your week been? Don't forget to use your power to change the course of Flicks' future!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Saturday, 4 April 2015


This is the 777 challenge, where you go to page 7, 7 lines down, and get the next 7 lines and put 'em in a blog post.
Ok that was a little confusing, how about Clare's wording:

The 777 challenge requires you go to Page 7 of your work-in-progress, scroll down to Line 7 and share the next 7 lines in a blog post. Once you have done this, you can tag 7 other bloggers to do the same with their work-in-progress.

That may be makin' it a little easier to understand.

So, I went to 'The Bridge of Anskar' and got the 7 lines. But not off page 7-because I've got a few things before the actual beginning of the story (and it would make even less sense)-but of the 7th page after the beginning of chapter 1. (It would be even better if it was chapter 7)
At first I really wasn't sure what to do because the seven lines both start and finish in the middle of a sentence so... I cheated and at least got a little more ....Well, here goes anyway!
“Perhaps we can drag it off the path and into those bushes.” she looked at me, obviously not knowing how I would take the news.

I screwed up my face in a grimace of distaste, “You want me to touch that…that thing?” I asked in horror.

Leonora nodded, “it’s not as bad as you might think really, and there isn’t any blood. We should be able to do it.” 

I took a deep breath, “Ok, I’m ready,” I said, although I felt anything but that.
It doesn't really make much sense...
Out of curiosity I looked to see what it would be in chapter 7, quite interesting really, not that it makes any more sense out of context, but for your interest I've decided to let you read it:
 “We start as soon as we can, heading from one small out crop to the other. That way we’ll get some rests so we don’t….you know….” I trailed off, and Eumin nodded his understanding. 

“We’d best wake Leonora then.”

When I shook her Leonora’s eyes shot open and she leapt to her feet, then relaxed as she saw Eumin and me standing there, “Oh, I thought for a second that the soldiers had come,” she said sheepishly.
That is from chapter 7...as you can see it's a little disjointed.
I don't really know anyone else who has a WIP, if my cousin had a blog I'd nominate her but...(although I could do it for her, as I have a copy of  hers)
So I guess I'll nominate nobody! (unless you really want me to do another blog post in which I impersonate my cousin)
I think I do a lot of nominating nobody...

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Wednesday, 1 April 2015

Dusty Red ~ Part 3

I really am having fun doing this, sometimes it's hard to think what should happen, but once I get going...then I really get going! Soon my blog will be over populated by Dust! And then I'll have to rename it The Dusty Mountains! Or maybe the magic does work and turns Dusty Town into Misty Town! (That would be weird) 
Thank you all for your comments, and I hope you enjoy Dusty Red Part 3!

Flicks regarded him with a sceptical expression, "A magic potion? You really must have kangaroos loose in your top paddock." She slumped into a chair, her hat slipping from her fingers and falling the floor with a soft thud.

Ron looked hurt, "Look 'ere now ol' girl, 'ave I ever givin' ye reason to be doubtin' me like this?"

"No, not at all," Flicks replied, running her fingers through her long hair, "What makes you think that you can invent magic?"

"Weel, let me jest be showin' ye..." the grey haired man shuffled over to a large desk on the other side of the room. He turned and beckoned to Flicks who rose with a sigh and went over to him.

Ron bent over a large book that lay open in front of him, he tapped a diagram on one page, "Weel, what do ye be thinkin' o' that?" he asked, his voice expectant.

Flicks craned her neck to look over his shoulder. She studied the drawing for quite a while, conscious of her friend's excited gaze on her.

After a minute or so she turned her head to look at him, her eyebrows raised. The expectant look died, to be replaced by a disappointed sigh, "It's a Nir Drole, can't ye be seein'?" he explained.

"A what?!"

"A Nir Drole!"

Flicks looked at the ceiling, groaned, and looked back at Ron, "And what, may I ask, is a...ner-der-roll thingy?"

"Nir Drole, not ner-der-roll. And as I said before, it be magic," Ron said earnestly.

"I see," Flicks said sceptically, "And what is it supposed to do?"

Ron frowned, "Weel, now as ye be mentionin' it I don't be quite sure meself," then his face brightened, "But there can't be no 'arm in tryin' it oot can there?"

"So you actually have made it? Not just a picture? Besides, I thought you said it was a potion."

"Yes indeed me girl, it is a potion. This 'ere diagram is a technical explanation of ev'ry thin' ye need to put in it."

"It is?" Flicks shook her head, but old Ron seemed not to notice her disbelief.

"Aye, that it is, and I've bin mixin' this oop all mornin' I 'ave," he reached over to a large jar full of a strange liquid, "It's jest es weel that ye came along at the verra right moment."

Flicks backed away hurriedly, "You aren't saying that I have to drink that I hope!"

Ron laughed and set down the jar, "No! I were jokin' with ye, it ain't ready yet anyways. And when it do be ready, I'm gonna be the one as drinks it!"

"Ron, don't be an idiot! How do you know it's not poisonous?" Flicks looked at him with a mixture of horror and pity in her green eyes.

"It won't be, so  ye needn't be worried 'bout me. If you come back t'morrow afternoon it'll be ready."

"Ok," Flicks groaned, 'If you're certain about this."

"O' course I be certain!"

Flicks shrugged, "Well, I'll be off then, see you later Ron."

Ron looked thoughtful, "I like that, lateron, or later on, or maybe later Ron, it don't make much difference, it all sounds good," then he smiled at Flicks, "Anyways, see ye t'morrow, and I be right glad to ye fer droppin' in." Flicks nodded and made her way towards the door.

When she entered the stable all was quiet except for the soft snuffling of horses and the scuffle of hay.

Flicks lent against the edge of Dust Storm's stall and ran her hand along the mare's neck, "Sometimes I think old Ron is getting too crazy for his own good," she murmured thoughtfully.

Dust Storm snorted and tossed her head. "You think so too girl?" Flicks smiled, "Well, we'd best be on our way."

At that moment the sound of pounding hooves came from outside, there was a few seconds of confusion and then three voices shouting and a pounding on the door of Ron's shop.

Flicks recognised the voices all too well.


Don't be forgettin' to help me decide what happens next by voting for your favourite in the comments!

1. Flicks grabbed Dust Storm's saddle, she had to get away before she was found, and Kendal caused even more trouble.

2. Heavy footsteps approached and, after a moment's hesitation, Flicks vaulted into the stall with Dust Storm.

3. Flicks bit her lip and walked silently to the door, still open a crack, and peered out.


Thanks for reading, I hope you have as much fun as I do!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden