Writing School: Opening and Special Punctuation

School: Ilvermorny

Year: 5

W/C:542 words

Facing the Beast

The blood dripped its way down the pale skin, winding a path through bony bumps and over torn ridges. It collided with its brethren as they raced their way down to already blood-soaked land that lay under Charlie Weasley. Each breath that he made forced more and more into the race until a steady stream flowed from him.

The spiller of blood hissed and snorted its way around the prone body, pausing as Charlie dared to twitch his fingers. A tumble of fire blew past the front of his face, singeing his eyebrows and blistering the tip of his nose. Charlie groaned loudly, sending shock waves of pain up his body from where he had crashed into the wall.

He lifted his head from where he had buried it in his chest, trying to find that shaft of light, the sign that all was not lost. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, possibly the blood loss as well, and he could make out his surroundings. Or what was left of it after large feet had been trampling around. He could even see the outside; it just happened to be on the other side of the fuming dragon.

The main question that lay in Charlie's mind as he assessed the room was 'where was the- oh, there it is.' The large dragon egg sat glistening in its nest, the shell of it gazing smugly at him. Could shells be smug? Maybe that was a question for full-blooded Charlie and not half-dead Charlie.

The mission had been simple: locate the egg, which was the last of its bunch; distract the mother because she was a little antsy; and then get out. Where in that plan had it gone wrong? Probably the planning of it. At least the egg was between Charlie and the door. He could grab it on the way out. As long as he was quick, he could do it. Charlie pushed himself up onto his feet, balancing against the sharp wall, its broken shards digging into his back.

His breathing laboured, he inched his way along the wall, freezing when the dragon's tail swooped past the edge of his cheek. A small dart-like scale bit its way through Charlie's paper skin, adding to the array of cuts that littered his body. He took a step towards the door, treading carefully so as not to alert the already raging beast.

The dragon's large head swung round and Charlie slammed himself back into the wall, rocks pinching his back like acupuncture needles. The beast snorted, stamping towards Charlie and then, he took his chance. Running-or rather limping-as fast as he could, Charlie stumbled towards the light, picking up the egg on his way. Throwing it like a bowling ball, he tossed it into the brightness and flung himself after it.

Charlie tumbled his way out of the blackness, landing on the grass at the feet of his colleague (not his superior, never his superior) and hissing as the dew inched its way into his slice-and-dice skin. He lifted his head to look up at the egg which had rolled to a stop beside him before turning over to glare at the man with his sunshine halo.

"So… how'd it go?"

"Bloody overprotective mothers."

A/N: Lines for checking:

He could even see the outside; it just happened to be on the other side of the fuming dragon.

The main question that lay in Charlie's mind as he assessed the room was 'where was the- oh, there it is.'

The mission had been simple: locate the egg, which was the last of its bunch; distract the mother because she was a little antsy; and then get out.

Charlie tumbled his way out of the blackness, landing on the grass at the feet of his colleague (not his superior, never his superior) and hissing as the dew inched its way into his slice-and-dice skin.

Running-or rather limping-as fast as he could, Charlie stumbled towards the light, picking up the egg on his way.