Refuge In Refraction: Chapter Three
Celia looked at the rocks, seeing the soil had formed around it. they stopped as the forest finally seemed to end, and headed toward a rocky cliff. celia panted heavily as donna seemed to not even break a sweat.
A Messy Situation - Part 2 [Comm]
Opening his eyes he found himself bound and still in a very soiled diaper, laying down in the enclosed playpen. he suckled nervoulsy at the pacifier strapped into his maw, embarrassingly gaining small solace from its comforting presence.
Clipped Wings
There was no ground and soil up there, right? only the cheese of the moon, and who even knew how that tasted?
Rest
#8 of underneath the wars another planned section of the 'historical fiction' written 2013 **rest** with a new shift of power in 45m, america pulled all us troops from foreign soils, lifted the ban on morph creation and attempted to repair their relations
Unimportant Verse 2
Soft bristles dislodging soil one speck at a time. but no one that day was nearly as blessed, seeing a coin shine through at the end, full relief brightly expressed, as i was to see you smile.
A poem of home
To taste old tastes to smell old scents to hear sounds once familiar, half forgotten mind's wonder and senses delight nature's bounty and home soil the familiar yet strange the strange yet familiar, change stations robin for sparrow, and squirrel
Brother Light, Brother Dark: In Which a Loose End is Tied Up
He fell limp and unconscious to the soggy, earthen soil. it was all donichus could do to stare down at him pathetically.
American Mustelid Alpha - The Cast (Part 3/3)
His strength does not come from gym training or practicing sports, but from stacking bales of hay, chopping wood and digging soil.
Blooming Love - short poem
Their roots buried deep in the soils we both share. creating our blossoming field. the field of blooming love. written by: fane star
Watership Down - Blueberry's Tale, Chapter 18
Both went at the soft soil with their front claws and began to dig out the soft soil blocking the run.
Contents of Epilogue
But we... ...let the green light wash the seeping soil of filth as they commend the floating lantern of amaranth, of our century-old blood-tainted creed of golden hilt and lime-like so crimson-crying blade which can't... ...cannot
In Thought
As life goes on, i start to find no point in rebuilding on soiled grounds. consistency; a time relapse. nothing more or less to describe my continuous days of current life. hopeless and lost, not much can break this bad habit i have developed.