original 10-9 mod 2-7-02 1-3-03 1-5-03
Rated PG13 This story began from an excerpt from one of my Anthropology papers. Anthropology is a highly recommended class, you learn about people who aren't like you and in doing so, begin to understand your own. Everyone should take anthro.
Chapter 1: 14mm reel on the Kipselip Nomads of the Holth Ice Plains, Fortuna
They were slaughtering the animal within their home, splattering blood and
various internal organs where children played and people slept; it was distressing, but my
discomfort was only beginning. The true horror came when the vixen butchering the seal
actually started to feed the children, passing out flecks of gore hand to tiny hand. She
had un-gloved both of her clotted paws to better dip into the torn belly. The corpulent
body quivered like jelly. The kill had not frozen yet. She carefully knelt to help a
particularly young girl sip the raw blood out of her cupped and bloody hands. Pert lips
came up red and shining in the lamplight before a tiny pink tongue darted out to catch the
last drops. A little cub smiles sweetly, his sleek tail swaying, as he bites a length of
entrail with bitty milk teeth. In a strange way, the faraway scene remindes me of the
Nutcracker video I saw to learn about Christmas, the part where that wizened toy maker
passes out all his offerings. I imaginee him among the children. A rag doll for you, a bit
of chocolate for you and for you, My Dearest, a scoop of blood and viscera, hot from the
carcass.
I notice with a certain discomfort that classmates, who were previously absorbed in
the captivating scene, have turned, eyeing me oddly in various degrees of bewilderment
or offense. With a shock, I suddenly realize I let slip a giggle at the last thought. My
slight hands, formerly engaged in quick note taking, freeze. Random explicatives pepper
my thoughts. Miou.I tried so hard and I'm lost, wondering what best to do, until I catch
the murmured words 'new' and 'off world'. I sigh in my mind. That's right, I am new
and I don't know what's what. For all you folk know I eat real mice for breakfast and
hundred other horrible things. I cough into my paw, embarrassed, and look away from
the scene. Different again.
Rated PG13 This story began from an excerpt from one of my Anthropology papers. Anthropology is a highly recommended class, you learn about people who aren't like you and in doing so, begin to understand your own. Everyone should take anthro.
Chapter 1: 14mm reel on the Kipselip Nomads of the Holth Ice Plains, Fortuna
They were slaughtering the animal within their home, splattering blood and
various internal organs where children played and people slept; it was distressing, but my
discomfort was only beginning. The true horror came when the vixen butchering the seal
actually started to feed the children, passing out flecks of gore hand to tiny hand. She
had un-gloved both of her clotted paws to better dip into the torn belly. The corpulent
body quivered like jelly. The kill had not frozen yet. She carefully knelt to help a
particularly young girl sip the raw blood out of her cupped and bloody hands. Pert lips
came up red and shining in the lamplight before a tiny pink tongue darted out to catch the
last drops. A little cub smiles sweetly, his sleek tail swaying, as he bites a length of
entrail with bitty milk teeth. In a strange way, the faraway scene remindes me of the
Nutcracker video I saw to learn about Christmas, the part where that wizened toy maker
passes out all his offerings. I imaginee him among the children. A rag doll for you, a bit
of chocolate for you and for you, My Dearest, a scoop of blood and viscera, hot from the
carcass.
I notice with a certain discomfort that classmates, who were previously absorbed in
the captivating scene, have turned, eyeing me oddly in various degrees of bewilderment
or offense. With a shock, I suddenly realize I let slip a giggle at the last thought. My
slight hands, formerly engaged in quick note taking, freeze. Random explicatives pepper
my thoughts. Miou.I tried so hard and I'm lost, wondering what best to do, until I catch
the murmured words 'new' and 'off world'. I sigh in my mind. That's right, I am new
and I don't know what's what. For all you folk know I eat real mice for breakfast and
hundred other horrible things. I cough into my paw, embarrassed, and look away from
the scene. Different again.