Hello world!

Posted: December 27, 2010 by writingsprint in Fantasy
Tags: , ,

Welcome to the Daily 400. This is going to be my big new year’s resolution, where I will write 400 words of something, every day, to keep the muse fed and the juices flowing and ink spilling all over my fingers. Because I like it that way.

So let’s get started.

Life as a border collie was hard enough without elves to worry about. Cody checked that the herd was moving in the right direction, then looked over his shoulder to see if the elves were still following them. Yup, they were. Cody charged the herd to give it one last shove toward the yard, on the other side of the hill. The sheep got bug-eyed and bleated and baa’d. The ones nearest Cody pushed into the butts of their brother bleaters. The herd poured over the hill like a tide of fat wool.

Cody was satisfied. It was time to kick ass.

He turned and gave the elves a good look at his fangs. All of them. If the sheep thought he looked mad, it was nothing compared to the blood thirst he was showing the foot-and-a-half tall runts that were hiding in the bushes, acting like he didn’t see them. Cody wanted to catch at least one. His eyes were slits and the hair on his back stood almost straight up.

There were two behind the nearest bushes, and a third about six feet away peering out from under a log. Cody pretended he didn’t see him. That one was holding a net. The other two were holding a stick and a bow.

The two from the bushes came out and jeered at Cody in their chittering language. They sounded like squirrels but not as smart. Not as nice. Cody crept a step forward. Two. The one with the bow goaded the one with the stick. The one with the net stayed put.

This was going to be a trick Cody could only play once.

Cody’s nose twitched at the smell of alcohol. Alcohol and elf breath. Phew. The one with the stick poked it at him, about ten feet away.

Cody lunged to his right, then straight at the elf with the stick. Both of them screamed shrill whistles of terror. The one with the stick ran backwards as fast as he could. He held the stick up at Cody’s face and screamed for his mother. The hideous thing’s eyes were filled with the sight of an angry dog twice his size bearing down on him.

Cody heard the creak-snap of the bow string and leaped to the left. Out of harm’s way, and away from the one with the net. The arrow stuck the elf with the stick right in the thigh. It screamed, and if the sheep would have been scared by an angry Cody, that sound was enough to shoo them all the way home.

Cody ran up the hill with arrows flying after him, and elf curse words. He panted, laughing as he crested the hill and was gone.

It wouldn’t work next time. He’d have to find a way to do something about these pests. Elves were worse than foxes and coyotes.

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Comments
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