Grin and bear it.

Another Trifecta weekend challenge.  This one asks us to "write a 33-word response using the name of an animal as a verb. "  I figured if one animal reference is good, then...

"Chickening out?" he crowed, standing high up on the ledge, cocking his head to the side.  

“Quit horsing around,” she scolded. “You’re bugging me.”

He grinned sheepishly, “I’m sorry,” he said, finally cowed.

"This is the end, beautiful friend, the end.."

After a week's hiatus, here's an entry for Trifecta's weekend challenge, which is:

"Last month we asked you to give us a killer opening line in exactly 33 words. This week we're asking for an equally amazing closing line. It can be the ending to the story you began in the previous challenge or a completely different ending altogether. Just make sure it's exactly 33 words."

So, here goes:

So this was it: The End.  No screaming, no chaos; nothing.  Just a soft hissing, like the air being let out of a balloon,  fading to a whisper, followed by an all-consuming silence.

Flight

Trifecta's weekly challenge is to use the word "flight," in its 3rd definition, in a 33 to 333 word story.  The 3rd definition is listed as:

"3a : a trip made by or in an airplane or spacecraft

b : a scheduled airplane trip"

“Alright, I’ve got a passenger Wyrm leaving in an hour with two vacant seats.  That’s the last flight out until tomorrow. “

The ticket agent looked around at the group standing before him.  The party was a bad cliché: there was Bronwyn, the Elven Ranger, standing straight with her long silver hair flowing over the bow strapped to her back; Stonebeard, the Dwarf, leaning on the hilt of his war hammer and smirking a crooked smile; Tabor, the barbarian, shirtless, with his huge two handed sword nestled in  a back scabbard; Maya, the female cleric, her green and white tunic covering the padded leather armor beneath, murmuring prayers to the mace she held gently in her hands; Fangolf, the old wizard with his long white beard and dark blue robe, the latter of which glowed dimly;  Kay’ferg, the Amazon, wearing a kind of chain-mail bikini thing that, while pleasant to look at, probably afforded little protection in battle; Rollo, the Halfling thief in his dark hooded cloak, nervously fingering the dagger stuck into his belt;  and finally, Sir Hogarth, the smug Paladin in his shining plate male and intricately painted kite shield.     

“But tomorrow’s too late!  The Dark Lord’s Army will be here by then!”   Rollo’s high pitched voice did nothing to alleviate the ticket agent’s building headache.

“Yes, well, I can put you on the standby list for tomorrow, but, of course, I can’t guarantee you won’t be seated next to an Orc. “ 

Sir Hogarth spoke: “But sir, surely you will not remain here as the Evil One overruns this town?  The forces of light are staging a strategic withdrawal whilst our mystics work on the Power Rune that will end in our inevitable triumph.  Once this place falls into shadow, your services will not be needed.“

“Are you kidding?  How do you think the Dark Lord transports and supplies his horde of horrors? Black magic can only handle so much.  Our logistical services here at Draken Air are first class!”

Rockin' Iguana

A response to Trifecta's weekend challenge, which is: "Tell us an original fable in exactly 33 words."

An iguana lay in the sun on a warm rock.  Bored, he spied a larger rock that got more direct sunlight.  A bored iguana lay in the sun on a large, hot rock.