red_stag88 Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Right then all you critisising ***** this is a firm two fingers to all of you. I post one of my english course works, which has attached a lovely 52/54 "Creative Writing The silver moonlight trickled through the leafless trees, spilling out, out onto the frost covered grass below. The rigid blades standing defiant, rising from the frozen earth. It crunched underfoot. The bracken was motionless on the limits of the ride. Stealthily the Hunter crept on, his shape melding with the back ground. His frozen fingers gripped the sling, so cold and numb they had become unconscious to the arctic environment. Slowly, gracefully, a tiny but perfectly formed snowflake floated gently from the off white heavens. The cold cut deep into the stalker’s cavernous lungs. It bit at his ruddy cheeks like miniscule blades. The wary rabbit sat like a grey rock, his fur matted with ice. Its eye rotated slowly in its socket, lacking the energy to turn its head. It sat blankly, its mind numbed by the bitter conditions. A muffled footfall on snow gave enough excuse to return to the warren, shedding its coat of ice. The weathered hunter, dressed in greens, had seen the omniscient rabbit, and payed little attention, as it was not the quarry today. A distant bark floated across peaceful forested hills, rolling thro’ the valley of tall, white pines. Another muntjac answered, with a horse call. A gentle wind stirred the eerie wood. Cautiously the hunter passed into taller and denser Corsican pines. Their tiny needles covered in snow, no wind reached these ancient branches. Ahead, the bracken moved unnaturally. A searching nose protruded from the hoar frosted stems. The huntsman froze – an instinctive reaction – the adrenalin raced through his veins, his grip shifted onto the stock, ready to nestle the butt in his shoulder. His racing heart continued to pump adrenalin around his aching body. The badger broke free of the brush, leaving small, faultless prints in the otherwise impeccable carpet if white snow. The burning sun begin to rise gently over a white hill to the east, like a small orange segment. Gradually its warming rays fell upon a scaffold frame, incongruous within the ancient forest. The hunter made his way deeper into the wood, towards the warmer rides. He clambered monkey like into the scaffold high seat, to lie in wait and ambush his quarry as it returned from feeding. The telltale ‘scrit-scrit’ of claws on withered bark gave away the squirrels position across the snowy ride. The stalker levelled his binoculars on its small form. Tiny clouds of condensation expelled from the nostrils of the mammal – its lungs working like bellows stoking up a fire. A twig broke. The hunter’s head snapped round to the direction of the noise. To the left was another small ride, heading deeper into the wintry blackness. From this protruded a twitching snout, bellowing steam. The stalker’s heart fluttered. He rested the stock of his .30-06 on the scaffold frame, shouldering the rifle, mind racing, adrenalin flowing. The snout became a tusked head, a front leg, then a muscular body. The beast was only a yearling, perhaps about one hundred pounds. He traced the cross hairs up the rear of the front leg, estimating the position of the heart. He steadied his breathing and gently squeezed. The shot echoed around the valley. The boar fell where it was struck. The stalker crunched through the snow unto the still body. He knelt down and inspected the yellowed tusks, barely hearing the muffled sound of the larger beast, charging through deep flurries of snow. He shouldered his rifle as he calmly turned; placing the thin, black cross hairs of the scope upon the four hundred pounds of charging muscle. That split second when the senses are honed, where one is oblivious to their surroundings, seemed to last for eons. Through the scope he saw anger in its eyes, he saw stained tusks, he saw viciousness. The second shot bounced off the surrounding hills. A small snow flake floated slowly down onto the red snow." So **** off all of you Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tiercel Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Brilliant red really enjoyed it. Well done Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
red_stag88 Posted March 8, 2004 Author Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Cheers, good job my teacher isn't an anti Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Teal Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Right then all you critisising ***** this is a firm two fingers to all of you. You have it in you eh red? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
red_stag88 Posted March 8, 2004 Author Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
new to the flock Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Well written Red, I thoughly enjoyed it. However just so your English prof gets a true view of your skills I just sent him your last 50 posts...I am waiting for your grade now..... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
red_stag88 Posted March 8, 2004 Author Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
brain dead Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 wonderful things these word spell checkers!! p.s. "Stealthily the Hunter crept on, his shape melding" did you mean hunter to have a capital? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
red_stag88 Posted March 8, 2004 Author Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Yep, well I didn't but I want to seem cleaver Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ollie Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 The huntsman froze – an instinctive reaction – the adrenalin raced through his veins, his grip shifted onto the stock, ready to nestle the butt in his shoulder. His racing heart continued to pump adrenalin around his aching body. The badger broke free of the brush, leaving small, faultless prints in the otherwise impeccable carpet if white snow. Sorry to burst your bubble red but should that not be "carpet of white snow" I wasn't looking for a mistake it just jumped out of me because the rest of it was perfect, you should have got 54, well done. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Teal Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Yeah I did enjoy reading it red, good job mate Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
neil Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Mills & Boon eat your heart out (but very good red ) Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lurcherboy Posted March 8, 2004 Report Share Posted March 8, 2004 Red, it was good reading and left me wanting more. So you had better get writing buddy. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Hammergun Posted March 9, 2004 Report Share Posted March 9, 2004 Red - I used to be a proof reader....... Shall I? Shan't I? Shall I? Shan't I? Go on, you tell me; Let me know. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
red_stag88 Posted March 9, 2004 Author Report Share Posted March 9, 2004 Already handed in my last draft this morning, but cheers HG Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
webber Posted March 9, 2004 Report Share Posted March 9, 2004 Congratulations Red, you have got it in you; quite what it is, I am not sure,but keep it up. Are you expecting A* in shooting as well? webber Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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