SWAT Kats: Take A Chance On Me Too (Chapter.1)
"jackie" ian snorted; he stood up straight stretching his arms in the air, the cool crisp air kept the kats comfortable while they waited outside the car.
The Origin Of Loud Eyes-Part 1
His mother left him with his father one crisp autumn day. she never returned.... loud eyes' father raised him until he was ready to be an adult. during that time, loud eyes learned the harshness of the world around him.
Sounds of Cooking (Otherwise Untitled)
~ the crisp sound of a freezer opened, the soft whump of the door closing. subdued rustling of cardboard tearing, then shift of plastic slid across cardboard. softly mumbled aloud reading of directions.
Mister and Mistess Claus
The air was cool and crisp, and the sky was a dark mirkey grey. kate was on her way to rhema, so she could see their lights. right when she was about to enter the parking lot she heard a faint ringing...almost like sleigh bells.
Patience and Chill (Otherwise Untitled)
~ the crisp dunes of the sand moon shimmered softly as mac's orbit brought her into another sunrise. her muzzle curled into a bit of a smile, as dancing shades of yellow slid across the ice sheets of the planet below.
What Love Is
Boundless into the universe where our souls forever inter twined and smiled with the endless warmth of the sun on our backs and the crisp breeze on our face. we were feirce warriors and masters of our own domain.
Rebirth
What's most troubling is the fact we can't go anywhere near the damn thing without getting burn to a crisp.
Hammering Out a Skill (Otherwise Untitled)
As he was shaking out his wings to encourage the crisp air in amongst his plumage, he noticed the glow of lights inside the forge. a soft clicking of his beak snuck into the tempo of his paces as he sought to investigate.
To Touch the Sky
crisp, cold, fresh. my safe haven now behind me, i wonder at the vastness of the world. beaming, the sky's fire greets me, welcomes me. i revel in its warmth. to hold it would sear me to ash, yet i want to draw it near.
Memories: A Poem
White fur as crisp as winter's snow, black paws the night's darkest. same too your maw, a visage unfeeling. but a heart of gold you didn't show, neither did your eyes. they told me a sad tale, one of longing i surmise.
Ch. 1: Walls at Siege
The cold air creeped in through my window, so when i got up the crisp air made my fur feel nice. i walked over to the shower, and i took a look at myself.
Matters of Discipline
Sighing, he wiggled under the sheets, still crisp from the laundry despite being in place for weeks. he expected several restless hours ahead of him - but mercifully, sleep claimed him quickly.