|HeroesThe storm is approaching.
It is wild, reckless, paying no regard to the world it ravages. Ripping the shingles from the roofs of shops, and flooding the muddy pathways out to the square. It makes its way towards the homes and the village where they hide. It roars at them, bellows its defiance and rage to innocent ears. It doesn't care what it has to ruin before they are in its clutches. It yearns to punish the villagers, and to make them feel its indescribable pain.|
|Transformations in TimePetpetpets - despite the mayhem that they may wreck, they hide secrets that few have known, and fewer have ever seen.|
|Organic MysteryIn his single bedroom apartment, Mason, a green Hissi, stared at his computer screen with blank eyes and a blank mind. Monomers, polymers, Neomers, achiral, epoxides, esters, hydration, elimination reactions. Every word his eyes glanced over ran together, creating a gross and complex mess of words inside his head. These terms had been familiar with him days and weeks ago, but now they meant nothing. |
|Feeling Like ChristmasAlthough Emmett was a Halloween Kyrii, Christmas was his favorite holiday. Halloween was a close second, of course, but Emmett still found himself looking forward to Christmas more than anything else. He loved the big holiday dinners, daily trips to Terror Mountain to visit the Advent Calendar, and of course, opening presents with his sisters and brother on Christmas morning.|
|AbandonedIt was cold and lonely in there but she does not fear the cold, it couldn't hurt her. In fact, a thick plumage covers her entire body, keeping her nice and toasty. Yet somehow, she is still afraid. The fear of betrayal strikes her heart as the crunching of the snow under her feet echoes through the forest glade. The echoes bounce back and forth along the tree trunks, reminding her that she is truly alone. She will never forget.|
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"Heroes" by iswimmings
The storm is approaching.
It is wild, reckless, paying no regard to the world it ravages. Ripping the shingles from the roofs of shops, and flooding the muddy pathways out to the square. It makes its way towards the homes and the village where they hide. It roars at them, bellows its defiance and rage to innocent ears. It doesn't care what it has to ruin before they are in its clutches. It yearns to punish the villagers, and to make them feel its indescribable pain.
She is holding her baby in her arms, the black cloak falling around her lithe figure and her soft white fur. The Usul smiles, as he gurgles and laughs unintelligibly at her. He is oblivious to the noise, to the wreckage and the danger. His green eyes are bright with their newness--he was born only five weeks ago. Freak accidents happen--the mother knows that. But she also knows that she has to keep her baby safe, so he might have a better life than one cut short in the mouth of a howling hurricane.
|Borovan for Beginners|
Your average Neopian might know that mixing asparagus and hot chocolate at the Cooking Pot yields Borovan, but there’s so much more to this tasty beverage!
|Of Silence: a Home for the Holidays: Part Two|
This might just be the worst idea that Kanrik has ever had.
Scaling the side of a mansion? Not a problem. Doing it in the dead of night? Child’s play. The fact that the mansion in question may or may not belong to the most notorious and feared assassin in the entirety of Neopia’s medieval realms — perhaps even the entirety of the planet as a whole? Well...
|One Way Out: Part One|
It doesn’t tell you directions; at least not in the conventional sense. Instead of telling you which way you are headed, it tells you where you need to go. That needle points to whatever it is in the world that you need or desire most. If you follow it, then you can find everything you need,” he took it back in his paw and polished it. “For some reason, this thing has been pointing me towards Terror Mountain. Towards you.