The_Warrior
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2007
- Messages
- 202
Ok, here's a new expert I wrote about a couple days ago. I woukd like people who critiqued my other experts before, to critique this one if they can.
To me, it seems like I've improved slightly since my last experts, but I want to see what you think. I want critiques on style,grammer,and on story please.
A loud grunt from behind Denellow made him sharply turn around with surprise. In front of him stood a figure, a figure, which didn’t look human.
To me, it seems like I've improved slightly since my last experts, but I want to see what you think. I want critiques on style,grammer,and on story please.
Denellow helplessly fell to the ground. Every thought of any hope, quickly rushed away, as he puffed out hard breathes, with the scent of death in each one of them. The dirt path touched his hands and knees. Forcing his eyes lids to stay open, Gellow couldn’t let them close now, but could let the darkness of the treetops over shadow him. They could be the only things that were keeping the string of life still tied to the hole of strength.
Moonlight was the only light on top of the green palm trees of the breezy and starry night, and Renkif could clearly see that. Steering his dragon to a clearing in the forest, his hands focused on steering, and eyes focused on looking through openings of the treetops. Where are you Denellow? He thought with frustration. Closer the dragon got to the clearing; the more the breeze blew against Renkif.
The temptation of just laying down filled Denellow’s body so much, but had to resist it. His aching muscles, cut up face, and exhausted soul begged him to give in to all the weakness. Though he knew this could just be a brief moment of the of night to be, if he got up.
Looking up to the path, he saw fire, three balls of fire, no, three torches. Faraway off from the path, behind hundreds of tree trunks, they lit up with the color of orange, yellow, and red, like any fire on a torch would look like. Though it was too dark to see who or what was holding them, but it was enough to get Denellow up fast. He moved his brown hair out of his eyes so he could see more clearly and limped over to nearest tree.
He still felt very fatigue as the light breeze blew against him, and his black cloak. If Renkif ever got here, Denellow exactly knew what he wanted to do; he planned it all out while he stood by the tree. Grasping the small trunk of the tree with his dark blood dripping hand. With trees surrounding his whole space, except the path. Denellow bent down slowly and picked up the closest large branch he could find, then rose back up slowly.
Having one hand holding on to the trunk, and the other holding on to the branch, on the same level of slightly below his chest. He stood there, hoping for something, anything to happen. Not wanting to move for a while, because of possible traps hidden everywhere, he looked in back of him. Through the tops of the palm trees, you could see, the vast hill of which Castle Mav’rolt stood upon. The orange and reddish glow from the holes that contained fire on the large towers could be seen from miles away.
Moonlight was the only light on top of the green palm trees of the breezy and starry night, and Renkif could clearly see that. Steering his dragon to a clearing in the forest, his hands focused on steering, and eyes focused on looking through openings of the treetops. Where are you Denellow? He thought with frustration. Closer the dragon got to the clearing; the more the breeze blew against Renkif.
The temptation of just laying down filled Denellow’s body so much, but had to resist it. His aching muscles, cut up face, and exhausted soul begged him to give in to all the weakness. Though he knew this could just be a brief moment of the of night to be, if he got up.
Looking up to the path, he saw fire, three balls of fire, no, three torches. Faraway off from the path, behind hundreds of tree trunks, they lit up with the color of orange, yellow, and red, like any fire on a torch would look like. Though it was too dark to see who or what was holding them, but it was enough to get Denellow up fast. He moved his brown hair out of his eyes so he could see more clearly and limped over to nearest tree.
The torches seemed to move back to the direction that they were coming from. This puzzled Denellow. Did they see him? Were they coming back, or just going to hide? They weren’t the enemies that were hunting him, but were something that happened to possibly see him. Denellow didn’t think they would just occur to go back from where they were coming from, it seemed suspicious and somewhat frightening.
He still felt very fatigue as the light breeze blew against him, and his black cloak. If Renkif ever got here, Denellow exactly knew what he wanted to do; he planned it all out while he stood by the tree. Grasping the small trunk of the tree with his dark blood dripping hand. With trees surrounding his whole space, except the path. Denellow bent down slowly and picked up the closest large branch he could find, then rose back up slowly.
Having one hand holding on to the trunk, and the other holding on to the branch, on the same level of slightly below his chest. He stood there, hoping for something, anything to happen. Not wanting to move for a while, because of possible traps hidden everywhere, he looked in back of him. Through the tops of the palm trees, you could see, the vast hill of which Castle Mav’rolt stood upon. The orange and reddish glow from the holes that contained fire on the large towers could be seen from miles away.
A loud grunt from behind Denellow made him sharply turn around with surprise. In front of him stood a figure, a figure, which didn’t look human.