The Breegull Boat Part 3: Not familiar, is it?
All the things she scrapped together made for a decent impromptu bed, and the room itself wasn't all that cold.
Rags And Riches: A dragon's beginning
No matter how many times i heard my parents argue over scraps, or where they would get their next meal. it was just a situation that i knew i couldn't change, something that wouldn't change no matter how much effort you put in.
The Cage
The other creature was removed, and he was left alone again with only the smell of blood and scraps of his meals. another meal didn't come. he was being punished, and he didn't know why.
Forest detour
The last scraps of evidence would be burned in his fireplace.
Tahgos, Master of Torturos
A wasted scrap of flesh, too scrawny for a bear to have any right being, and an overdressed pheasant who chastised her even while he benefitted from her day of whoring, walked together on the streets.
Behind the Metal
Eggman dropped amy as he focused on eden, who was more than ready to turn his egg walker into scrap metal.
J'Zel's Story
She pried it open, and inside was a scrap of parchment, with the fine, filigreed lines of a magically-scryed portrait.
Foxy and Kitty- Episode 3
She had on a string bikini, and the scraps of cloth that covered her nipples and crotch were just that- scraps of cloth. everything she had to show off was out to be admired. she looked down and crossed her arms, blushing.
Bod's Day Off
Within minutes scraps of bod were already starting to come back together, and the automatic kitchen began preparing a heavy lunch for a hungry dragon. being blown to bits was energy intensive!
An Introduction to Hope and Despair
Inmates, as i write i can look to my left and see the desiccated remains of a ferret, and i can only shudder to think what awaits me as i look at his arms and legs, each joint torn out of the sockets by the rack the wasted frame being held together merely by scraps
Mortality (a sonnet)
#36 of scraps feeling particularly hopeless today. forgive me.
Dancing Away the Human - A Poem
#1 of owletrons' scrap book a short poem about not caring if you're any good at moving your feet. best consumed slowly and while listening to a good song. i don't plan on sharing many poems, but i find they can be fun to write if an idea comes to you.