Heather: Speaking of new...

Hey ladies. :)
How are you all?
I got Kas's gift. :D THANKS! I don't think I said that yet? You're amazing.
So, Ned and Sage will probably have theirs soon too, since Toronto's not far from Windsor.
Anyway, the point of this post was actually to introduce a new idea of my own- I'm not exactly sure what I think of it... but I like it. I think... Haha.
So, I figured I'd post the part I wrote that actually gave me the idea. The first shapter is done, but ... really rough. Anyway, here goes:

      Cool leaves crunch beneath my feet. The sounds of crickets and the soft coos of the owls above my head work only to calm my now quaking nerves. The stream still gurgles along to my left. I pull the dull red cloak I had nearly forgotten I was wearing tighter around my shoulders as a branch snaps not far from where I stand. My eyes rove through the forest; searching through the darkness for any sign of something that does not belong.

      I find none. Cautiously, I stick my hands out, allowing the heat to flow through them without fear of losing control. My steps go forth once more; suspicion all but lost, but I can’t keep the fear of hunters from my mind. If they see me, I’m done for. I swallow back my unease.

       The trees soon begin to thin, and I follow the stream to the shores of a huge lake. It is calm; the water captures the moons distorted reflection like a cracked mirror. My fingers long to run along the cool surface and feel the waters soothing touch; but the moon is no longer high in the sky, and I dare not waste the little time I have.

       My cloak falls silently to my feet as I undo its silver clasp. My dark hair is tied back in a loose bun at the base of my neck, where it irritates the soft skin beneath it. A deep frown is etched across my face as I raise my hand; a tiny flame rising effortlessly from the tips of my fingers. It grows higher and larger until it barely fits within the palm of my hand.

        It is now that I grin, allowing the laughter to bubble up in my chest and spill over into the night. This is the only time where I need not possess any sort of self-control; it is the one time I may be free. My hands shoot out, casting with them a river of orange, smokeless flames above the calm waters of the lake. They jump and twist, fighting to break away, to explode, to escape their bindings.

        To destroy.

        I curl my hands in to fists, watching as the fire fades back to nothing.

I feel like it's a little too descriptive, but it's still really rough... Anyway, that was my inspiration. :)

What do you think?

-H