InVinsanity
Member
- Joined
- May 15, 2009
- Messages
- 45
- Gender
- Male
- HSC
- 2011
Hey guy i just wrote a piece just want some feedback btw i havent finished
The sun was blazing, crusts of dry leaves withered away in the humid breeze. In the middle of the vast Savannah woke Zira. The coming of age ceremony was in a few weeks, where all growing lion’s reaching the youthful age of five have to earn their place in the pride. Zira let a lazy yawn signalling his worried parents that he was awake. Zira’s Dad walked over, his old but sharp paws thudded on the barren dirt land. “Lets go son” he said with a voice of authority. Zira might of sensed fear in his dad’s thick voice but the let idea pass, he knew his dad was worried because Zira wasn’t like the lion’s, he was smaller, weaker, he had unusual spot marks like a cheetah, didn’t have a mane at all and most importantly Zira had back seizures. “Ok” Zira said, he gave his dad a wry smile, trying to lift his spirits but his dad’s face remained stern as ever, not moving a muscle.
Zira and his dad continued with their regular hunting. At the back of Zira’s head he was sacred about the constant fits his back gave him; Zira was hoping it wouldn’t occur today. Zira didn’t feel like devoting energy to their training. The debilitating attacks sensitized him; actions that previously had caused him no trouble could now leave him writhing on the ground. Even the daily stretching began to trigger seizures as he advanced to more strenuous poses. Zira’s face grew haggard. He walked with a shuffle, his movements slow and careful as he tried to preserve his strength. It became hard for him to think clearly an pay attention to his dads lessons, and gaps began to appear in his memory that he could not account for.
One morning he was hunting with his dad, Zira fell to three bouts of agony while fighting and stretching. As he uncurled from the clenched ball he had rolled into, his dad said “Again, Zira. You must perfect your balance” Zira shook his head and growled in an undertone “No”. He curled down on his hind legs to hide his tremors.
“Son if you give up you’ll be banished from the pride, not because of the stretches but because of your failing back, you won’t be fit enough to participate in the ceremony.”
Silence engulfed the conversation and the both of them, son and dad left for home.
The sun was blazing, crusts of dry leaves withered away in the humid breeze. In the middle of the vast Savannah woke Zira. The coming of age ceremony was in a few weeks, where all growing lion’s reaching the youthful age of five have to earn their place in the pride. Zira let a lazy yawn signalling his worried parents that he was awake. Zira’s Dad walked over, his old but sharp paws thudded on the barren dirt land. “Lets go son” he said with a voice of authority. Zira might of sensed fear in his dad’s thick voice but the let idea pass, he knew his dad was worried because Zira wasn’t like the lion’s, he was smaller, weaker, he had unusual spot marks like a cheetah, didn’t have a mane at all and most importantly Zira had back seizures. “Ok” Zira said, he gave his dad a wry smile, trying to lift his spirits but his dad’s face remained stern as ever, not moving a muscle.
Zira and his dad continued with their regular hunting. At the back of Zira’s head he was sacred about the constant fits his back gave him; Zira was hoping it wouldn’t occur today. Zira didn’t feel like devoting energy to their training. The debilitating attacks sensitized him; actions that previously had caused him no trouble could now leave him writhing on the ground. Even the daily stretching began to trigger seizures as he advanced to more strenuous poses. Zira’s face grew haggard. He walked with a shuffle, his movements slow and careful as he tried to preserve his strength. It became hard for him to think clearly an pay attention to his dads lessons, and gaps began to appear in his memory that he could not account for.
One morning he was hunting with his dad, Zira fell to three bouts of agony while fighting and stretching. As he uncurled from the clenched ball he had rolled into, his dad said “Again, Zira. You must perfect your balance” Zira shook his head and growled in an undertone “No”. He curled down on his hind legs to hide his tremors.
“Son if you give up you’ll be banished from the pride, not because of the stretches but because of your failing back, you won’t be fit enough to participate in the ceremony.”
Silence engulfed the conversation and the both of them, son and dad left for home.