I was bored, and just started writing a story. 3/4 through the first page, I'm stumped. I lost all my inspiration...so, I wanted to know...
What gives other writers their inspiration? This is what I wrote SO FAR. (Still needs grammar check, fancy words, what not...)
Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.
-William Shakespeare
Once more, I awoke to find only silence next to me. He never spoke to me when we talked, He hated eye to eye conversation, and his topics were stupid and pointless, like he’d never even said them. But he had one good quality - he always listened. I attempted rising, but slid back down on the cold ice beneath me. Flipping over, I began to crawl on my knees to a rock that looked like a good support. I placed all my weight onto it and lifted myself up. The hood above my head fell down. It was yanked up by fast, shocked, hands. I stared at the wicked ice for a short while, and then noticed my clothes. I sat on the rock and began to chip the rust on my metal breastplate with my nail. Held by the plate was a knee-length, semi-tight skirt. On my arms was lazily crafted black material. It started right beneath my shoulders and held there, covering at least three inches of the tips of my fingers.
Rythmic tapping from a wood pecker held my attention. It stopped every now and again to glare at me for watching him. I guess he didn’t like me. Another quiet peck echoed while an enormous gust of wind violently threw me and made me lose my balance. Sick and tired of falling I ran away from the iced lake and into the woods. It was much better in there - little to no snow was on the ground. However, the humidity was quite fatiguing. The heel of my combat boot sank in to the wet soil. I yanked at it, and it came out without too much effort. A growl in the distance made it clear that if I went further, I would be ripped to pieces. I didn’t pay it much mind, and it left me alone. My feet dragged me a bit further into a beautiful clearing where I then lay down. The grass was tall, and warm, still carrying morning dew on the velvety tips of each blade. I slowly fell into a sleep - or a very comfy coma…- and became unaware of everything around me.
“What should we do with it?” A growl. “Destroy it. It was here to kill us… I know their kind.” A ruffling of fur. “Volk, that is very un-honorable. You know that all those who shall become deceased deserve a fighting chance. ” Another growl, and a squeaking yelp. “Humans deserve the worst,” A muffled sigh.
“But you’re right.”
My eyes twitched as I began to fade out of my heavy dreaming state. “Daddy! Daddy! It’s up!” The soprano voice screeched in my ears. I stumbled back, and jumped to my feet. A strange creature was biting at my ankles. It looked like a wolf, but the fur was blue, and it had a little red cloth covering it’s private. Two others were about 5 feet away. It looked like a male, and a female, with the same kind of cloth. Both, again, were blue. The male turned first, giving the female’s hand a quick squeeze. What I hadn’t noticed before was that he had a C shaped axe and that he was walking towards me, ready to swing. “Stop!” I yelled. He laughed menacingly. “What do you want?!” I shrieked, my voice breaking from fear. “Your blood spilled.” He grinned. With my instinct taking over, I kicked the little wolf off, and began to run. “Volk! Volk!” I heard the female wolf scream. She must be trying to communicate with the male wolf chasing after me, as I didn’t see the little one anymore. He ran faster, the blade just short of my neck. I sprawled out of the forest. He stopped at the edge like there was a pet barrier. “Vo-” was all I could get out before panting some more. He glared at me and turned away, back towards the clearing. I’d never seen such an amazing creature before. Terrifying, but beautiful. I stared at the forest a while longer, and then began jogging away; there was a slight chance he would come back, and I wasn’t going to take it.
