The Arctic Outcast

Submitted into Contest #88 in response to: Write a fairy tale about an outsider trying to fit in.... view prompt

52 comments

Fantasy Inspirational Speculative

This journal belongs to : 

Thyia Wilkwine

・Date ~ May 12, 1650.




Squeezed into a pocket-sized crevice within ice-moulded walls, with which I've claimed my home, had I known the royal guards carrying sachets of cinder and ash around as a new-founded additive to our annual traditions would be the catalyst to my own undoings, I'd have restrained my whole being from breaking the willpower to hold on.

 

Today was a customary, universal tradition in celebration of the first steps taken for the domestication of wildlife known to be Polar Day, birthed from the moment our ancestors had put their differences aside for amity. We had finally befriended the fauna in our boreal terrain, the ecosystem's unruly life forms having worn an untamed, primitive essence within Iceland's glacial regions and snowy parts which border the Atlantic and Arctic Oceans at a time of tension between us, ice nymphs, and animals of nature.


Considering the new arrivals for winter, having migrated south to hibernate and unwind, a shadow of doubt attached to the unformed territories and unaccustomed air about ourselves could not be helped, with most natural creatures of the Arctic remaining rightfully hesitant in trusting us, nymphean maidens, otherwise recognised as lesser female deities, before our initiation of interest in companionship. It took three winters for both parties to warm up to each other before our inevitable, mutual solidarities.


~


A little sneeze was all it took to see life crumble all at once - in one swift go.


I was hauled from the miserably narrow gap of my hiding space by a member of the Queen's Council. It was clear from day one what consequences would happen upon those harbouring tragedies such as me, with an irrevocable penalty of safekeeping Interbreeds being that the transgressors would be banished from the existing societies of our people. 


My caretaker, Winfred Elmere, took the risk, the gamble, the senseless danger of granting a home to a putrescent excuse for a nymph no-body, like me, extending out a full, over-brimming heart on his sleeves and a hand to my frail limbs, taking a chance on me from the first breath I'd drawn, and the shrill sound I'd taken, and the hideous face I'd made. He was there from the beginning and chose a life I'd never should have gotten, with me, as the privileged receiver of his foolish kindness.




They burnt his home down…

our home down. 


~


The small, humble, secluded ice cave in the middle of nowhere, just out of reach from the city's burning gaze, in careful coexistence with the rest of Her Majesty's subjects, so as not to bother anyone from its placidly distant bubble of living, taking up no more than an untouched, almost-forgotten corner of the world that no one would truly miss but the two nymphs that belonged to each other on the other side of the mountainous ice caps.


We were told to flee, as exiled fugitives and pitiable members of a lonely civilisation一 but not before being brandished as outcasts by the permanently engraved etchings of a bloodred snowflake that rests on the frozen sheathes of our neck. A mark to go by for the unwanted entity that I am: a souvenir of the likes.


...


Though now at least, I'll have physical evidence of my affiliation with the only man I'd give my life for. It had dawned on me a long time back that we weren't biologically related... and that messed with my head because I had this idea that someone as important as him in my life wasn't even meant to mean much more to me than the neighbour across the next icecap. But that only meant that our bond succeeded those born of family, knowing we'd found each other on our own accord... or, well, that's what I would tell myself at night.



Needless to say - I finally had something to link myself to him一

even if it was as pathetic as a symbol for treason.



一一♢♦♢ 一一



This journal belongs to : 

Finnean Cherrywine

・Date ~ February 19, 1636.




There was a blizzard.


I had taken shelter in an undersized, compact ice cave smack-dab in the centre of the polar ice caps of Iceland一 

which was where I met her. 


She had just been chasing down a lost Arctic fox, who went by the name Puffincap; the merry scamp was a run-away pet from her village, and he'd respond to nobody but Eirwen Wilkfield, though that day, it found me.



I never thought I'd witness an ice nymph with my own two eyes, but I had. Against all odds, two species that never were supposed to meet knew of each other's existence at that very moment. Puffincap, the "mediator" at the time, or common connection between man and nymph, appeared amused by me in some fashion.


Yet, nothing intrigued me more than the sensation I felt from locking eyes with an ethereal creature such as she.


The cave we had stumbled upon seemed an otherworldly breach or portal of some sort which we had trespassed, its walls almost borders dividing one species from the next, as the intimacy of our unspoken experience had no business tying our souls like ribboned halves together in an intertwined and meshing masterpiece in a single knot.


The invisible string splitting down midway from one end of the hollow to the other, separating our societies, and yet binding them together in an unforeseeable rupture of all things orderly. I always thought there to some truth to fiction, however far-fetched it might have been. 


With me, I pulled out a bundle of Arctic thyme, or thymus praecox arcticus, a special plant I'd been travelling with as a personal token of good luck... and there seemed no other time better than then to repay nature for its fortunes with which blessed my unworthiness. Her presence alone felt too gracious for any mortal to bear sight upon. As my knees kissed the cave floor, I laid the blossoms out in front of me and gently slid them across to her as a peace offering and sign of affability.



She took it well.



一一♢♦♢ 一一



This journal belongs to : 

Thyia Wilkwine

・Date ~ June 17, 1655.




I did not expect the day would come at such a low point in my life when we would venture into the uncharted lands of the Arctic Outcasts. Winfred had told me tales of this place; the desolate slums struck by a bolt of poverty, overridden with steel-skinned, rough brawling bottom feeders, outlaws, crooks and bandits一 you name it, they're there. These lawbreaking rogues hold a felonious repute, and now we are stained with the scorched emblem of the pariahs. 


Winfred hasn't the heart to brave a false front and soothe me with disingenuous reassurances. But he doesn't need to tell me what I can see for myself; the situation was much direr than either of us were ready for. 


What's worse is that the degenerate ruffians who have made a name for themselves in that rotting ditch of a place believe us to be irreparably degraded in light of their own selves; how detestable am I in their eyes if abhorrent, unconventional defects like me are laughably spat upon by the standard 'defects' of society? What more am I to the world?


If they stand higher in the hierarchy of citizens of Nymphallia Kingdom, am I of equivalence to the parasites of Arctic soils, a feeble ice worm without cause to occupy the same air ordinary nymphs breathe? The chain of civilians in differing factions and rankings look down upon even the cruddiest of germs, mutant-formed and unnaturally born. 


There were ancient ones who resembled me and my ghastly materialisation. You would think rarities to be often miraculous and bewitching... but sealing the role as a freak of nature subspecies, and living, breathing, walking proof of anomalies in genetic variation considerably disturbs people to their very core.


I have seen the shaken looks of terrified, pinched, sickly nymphs that cannot seem to decide on just one suitable reaction, accrued together in the span of mere moments from our initial advent into their domains. They don't appear to know how to handle accidents of creation, and neither do I.



But that did not stop them from seizing the abnormal, undignified nymph by association with the outlandish creature that I am. 





There was a commotion, an uproar of aggression, a collision of hostilities.




~~



And I never saw him again.



一一♢♦♢ 一一





This journal belongs to : 

Finnean Cherrywine

・Date ~ March 22, 1639.




We spent the majority of our days with each other, tantalised and captivated by each other's lives. After exchanging gifts, trading secrets and engaging in one another, all made possible through a clandestine means of communication and freshly developed, never-before-heard language of our own, sculpting the beginnings of Arctic Hu-nymph-an Scripture, a decipherable scroll accommodating humans and nymphs. 


Amidst all of this, a war had broken out between our people; it had picked up momentum from the mass killings of whales, reindeers, Arctic foxes and puffins done by mankind, with the endangerment of several species having ignited animosities and incited full-frontal warfare. 



And still, we met in private一

entrapped in our own realm.


...


It reached the point of no return;


an unforeseen pursuit of illicit intimacies overcame us as our deplorable relations grew into a prevalent, inescapable reality of affairs.


~ ~


Three years had gone by, and Eirwen conceived a child with me. An arrestingly delightful baby girl, from whom my heart had been stolen.



一一♢♦♢ 一一



This journal belongs to : 

Thyia Wilkwine

・Date ~ July 20, 1658.




I escaped in one piece.



The next three years were spent roaming unfamiliar, daunting lands, in constant progression from one place to the next. It posed a risk to remain in any location for longer than a week, knowing the people that were after me. 


I'd be lying if I said I hadn't encountered lookouts on my travels, but I evaded capture from their avid, grimy hands. It helped that I had a guardian to have taught me all the necessary survival skills to appease the wilds... but preventing apprehension and execution was a whole new learning experience.


Through the greatest of adversities, the one true source of sanity that had kept me going latched onto me like an extension of my body was an ancient scroll recovered by my Winfred, with its messages being the only connections to my past. 

I wondered what my real parents were like. I had nothing to go by other than the decades-old scrawled writings of scripture, but there was no finer item worth treasuring.


--


My aimless wanderings eventually brought me to a biome of palustrine wetlands, where I'd come across the folkloric, fabled beings themselves: witches.


It was a first for both ends. 


As I stepped foot into their marshes, a leader of their tribe greeted me with her crimped, puckered palms and tenderly shrivelled fingers. 


"Welcome," she croaked.


I broadened my shoulders and straightened my back, face-to-face and nose-to-nose before her limp, frail figure. Truth be told, I'd only appeared self-assured and poised because the incautious loons whom I'd heard from tales to have fallen into ensnarements from giving the impression of vulnerability, and so I thought it sensible to assume a manner of commanding composition.


"Wise ones, lend me counsel," I said, with a civil bow to my head.


They knew of my burdens and thus, offered an enchantment of glamour, which would allow me to emerge as an entirely different entity: a human. She would cover my broken crystals with layers of flesh, along with the faculties required for mankind, be it the tongue of mortal speech so as to blend in with their people.


The only catch to their black-magic bestowments was a rule as simple as they come: conceal my identity. There was the slight matter of concern regarding the double-edged spell conjured upon me, being the curse of truth, which entailed...




that if anyone were to find out what I really am, 





I would perish.



一一♢♦♢ 一一



This journal belongs to : 

Winfred Elmere

・Date ~ March 23, 1639.




The news of an affair shared by a nymph and man had spread like the unravellings of an inferno, trailings of gasoline doused and enkindled.


The Queen had sent troops to surround the cave and entomb the culprits in a chrysalis to encase the reprobates within a glacial mass to trap the lovers in eternal frosted imprisonment. Her decrees rung out like the rich and sonorous, pulse-like echoes that ripple down the river of northern lights, taking to the sky in smeared thrummings of an aurora:


"FREEZE THOSE WRETCHED SCOUNDRELS!" she'd resounded into the vastness of the dark, unending void of the nordic islands.


The iceberg lasted weeks, and last I heard of 'em... Eirwen Wilkfield and Finnean Cherrywine… well, I didn't. 



I went to see it for myself.



~~



The man's life had been snatched by hypothermia, incarcerated within unsurvivable temperatures. Following after, was the ice nymph… who had her life terminated by nomadic tribes of men; the conditions of such a phenomenon soon caught the loose, anxious ear of Iceland's civilisations.


~


She'd been melted alive by the errant, roving streams of snow and rock malevolently set ablaze. 


I'd arrived at the scene in the heat of the mayhem and fervour of flames. 


It was then I'd heard the soft cries of a newborn baby, sounding neither nymph-like nor human. 


Sprawled out in the lush haze of garnet red was an illuminated womb that belonged to the torched nymph and human lover, Eirwen, with one outer blanket of flesh wounds and skin, whilst another lolled over in a coat of frosted glaze, somehow keeping the innermost layer of stalactites intact. The typical lustrous, healthy contents of ice had now been contaminated with blood vessels leaking from the fragmented shell of rime and suspended, frozen waters, which oozed from the rifts and cracks in her skin. Blotches of cerulean and azure-tinted blue, with hues of currant red dribbled from her body like trickles of early morning dew from snow-draped branches.


I managed to salvage a remnant of years' worth of sacred inscriptions and texts, wide-sweeping walls of smouldered passages, incinerated volumes of literature and a living space of a presumable library reduced to ashes, as the only surviving scroll left behind had been conveniently buried in a mound of powdered dust.


As a hermit who lived his life in the peace of monastery and meditation, it was a life-changing experience to resurface from my hibernation into a war zone of wildfire and corpses, only to be found before the helpless wails of an abandoned offspring. 

I extracted the day-old child from her mother's embryo and took it home with me.


~


She smelt of flowers… like that of Arctic thymes.




"I will call you… 





Thyia."



一一♢♦♢ 一一



This journal belongs to : 

Thyia Wilkwine

・Date ~ August 21, 1659.





The town of Borgarnes ushered me in, the daybreak's muted dapples of benevolence and sunlight against the unscathed, magnificent skin that has been glossed over me, its unspoiled, pristine promises encrusted onto the tarnished, desperate garments I've grown into over the uncompromising years, all now but a stranger to broken things, from which I used to be. My whole, sheeny, silk-like and spotless skin was now fit for a royal archetype, qualified to proclaim contempt or disdain upon any plain rag or dull, sullied robes of their choosing; what I'd have given to achieve such perfection in my earliest days... oh, if I could surrender the world and more to keep these alien works about me, inimitably designed for nonesuch as I, an abnormal specimen of which cannot even feel the radiance I am showered upon by the conciliatory, marigold orb curtained over the sky, as the radiance does not reach the cool veins aglow underneath my ice sheets, but the ice-bound heart confined within.


After traversing through all climates and various settings of environment, I had made my way to human civilisation. I stood at the edge of a rocky shoreline amidst shallow ends; the water curved into a clearing of the vibrant town, as the bend of a nearby bank filtered through an incoming rush of water.


I am inexplicably reeled in by the mystifying, surreal-seeming magnetism of a welcome sign from a sequestered village tucked away into the folded hills, the meek, neighbourly post implanted atop a blissful view of the scenery.


It read:


Life is made whole from how we choose to live it.









April 09, 2021 15:08

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52 comments

Maya
17:35 Apr 13, 2021

I loved this story, a spectacular job!! The format of diary entries was creative, and the different character perspectives really helped to tell the same story from different views and time periods. The way you tied the two character's stories together, telling the reader that Finnean's daughter was Thyia connected everything perfectly. I also really liked the line breaks you used, they helped the reader to pause and take in the whole scene at just the right times. The line, "A little sneeze was all it took to see life crumble all at once - ...

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:}} Silverstar
07:28 Apr 14, 2021

Thank you :333 !!! - I had a lot of plot to get through, so I thought it best to attempt story-telling through journal entries, which was a bit of a risk now that I look back at it... but I'm glad I tried something new! I think it came out how I intended it to. - To be completely transparent, I had a simpler plot in mind: which was to revolve around only Thyia's perspective, who symbolised the ultimate 'outsider' as a product of her parents' treasonable, disgraceful affair of interbreeding with a species other than their own, let alone a s...

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:}} Silverstar
07:31 Apr 14, 2021

And by original formatting, I meant the arrangement on google docs was quite different to how it turned out here on reedsy... the functions for spacing out sections of text on the site is admittedly new for me :) but I'll get the hang of it! Anyways, I won't get too caught up on the minute aspects of it all, haha :D

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Maya
17:11 Apr 15, 2021

:)) Yeah, you managed to fit such a detailed plot into the short story. The amount of world-building you did in just one story was stunning. :) Oh lol, well it turned out nicely. :3 No problem! Yay! :)) :))) Hehe you're the only person I've seen do the smile like :} lol it's cool~

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:}} Silverstar
00:11 Apr 16, 2021

:}}}}}}}}

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:}} Silverstar
07:36 Apr 10, 2021

Here are some supplementary context/background info + fun facts on the story !! ~ Thyia Wilkwine : Protagonist • 1st scene : 12yrs • 3rd scene : 17yrs • 5th scene : 20yrs • 7th scene : 21yrs ~ Eirwen Wilkfield : Protagonist's mum • 2nd scene : 18yrs • 4th scene : 21yrs ~ Finnean Cherrywine : Protagonist's dad • 2nd scene : 19yrs • 4th scene : 22yrs ~ Winfred Elmere : Protagonist's caretaker • 6th scene : 41yrs • 1st scene : 52yrs • 3rd scene : 57yrs ~ ~ Factlet: The name 'Artemis,' was chosen to pose as the "Deity of Nymphs" for this u...

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18:59 Apr 15, 2021

WOW that format was cool. I can't wait to see more!

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:}} Silverstar
00:10 Apr 16, 2021

Yay! Thanks :))) Glad you liked it!

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11:57 Apr 15, 2021

An incredible first story. From the diary entry style to the characters, this blew me away. The word choices were amazing and something about your style really caught my eyes. Great job! I hope you write another story soon!

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:}} Silverstar
12:33 Apr 15, 2021

Ahh, thank you!! I took a bit of time for the planning on this one, but I left the story a little last-minute to have it published before the contest ended :"") I guess I'll be over here, trying to work on my time management skills henceforth to produce material at a regular pace rather than risk me doubting the end product after it's all said and done... hhhh- *sighs* if only quality and quantity were interchangeable... (^◇^;)

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12:43 Apr 15, 2021

Np :) XD

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Angel {Readsy}
04:08 Apr 28, 2021

Well done . (•̀ᴗ•́) it seems you did great effort to write such an amazing story. : ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 o(〃^▽^〃)o ✺◟(∗❛ั*ᴗ❛ั∗)◞✺

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15:14 Apr 14, 2021

I don't even know what to say. Great story, prefect imagery, amazing world-building? Not good enough. Wonderful, fantastic, I'm gonna follow you just because of it? Nope. You broke my heart with your writing skill? I'll never be as good as you? Hmmm, that's good. I LOVE THIS.

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:}} Silverstar
23:37 Apr 14, 2021

Ahhhh, no !!!!!! thank you so much; you've made my day :DDD You certainly are a beacon of positivity <333 I've heard about the mass downvotings and departure of writers because of it.. :( And though I'm new to the site, it doesn't take much looking around to realise the effect it's caused :"[[ While I'm saddened by the news, your positive attitude and absolving perspective is beautiful to see :> Spreading God's love and kind words to end the negativity on here brings me and many others hope for the future ♡ !!! #StopDownvotingNow #Support...

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14:21 Apr 15, 2021

Aww thank you! I started the stop downvoting hashtag, I'm so happy to see everyone using it. :) You could publish a whole series and everyone would like it, I bet, since your style is just so attractive. I couldn't tear my eyes away! Have you thought about publishing something?

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:}} Silverstar
00:55 Apr 16, 2021

:)) oOoh the prospect of starting a series sounds tempting!! I've worked on a few writing projects of my own, but longer stories usually take me a bit of time to make :'( ...though I have seen writers on here splitting their stories up in parts/chapters, continuing from where they'd left off of the following week. But, for reedsy, which is designed for shorter stories, incorporating the prompts in the making of an overarching plot might prove a challenge for me in that case (⌒_⌒;) Regardless, if I ever do try it, I'll have owed it to you fo...

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12:01 Apr 16, 2021

That is exactly how I feel! Your description of the "archive of uncompleted material has now stockpiled into an embarrassing heap after dropping the stories and losing interest" is something I think everyone has. I've been writing since I was eight and only completed something recently. Too long for Reedsy, though, since it was thousands of words

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:}} Silverstar
13:13 Apr 16, 2021

(πーπ)Good to know I'm not alone...

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Radhika Diksha
16:41 Apr 13, 2021

I have a new story, hope you read it and give me feedback.

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:}} Silverstar
07:28 Apr 14, 2021

Of course! I'll check it out soon :3

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Radhika Diksha
16:40 Apr 13, 2021

You worked so hard for it. It's commendable seeing it's your first story. I loved the plot. I always loved the 1600 vibes, hence the story caught me. Everything was to the "t". Nice characterization and plot. Hope to see amazing works from you in the future.

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:}} Silverstar
07:27 Apr 14, 2021

:)) Thank you!! I was a little intimidated by the site and all its brilliant writers, but I decided to give it a shot ! It helped that the prompt was very intriguing and that the community is so welcoming to newcomers :D I was going for an old-timey vibe, so I'm happy it's come off that way :] It's a relief readers like you have found interest in the characters and plot just over the span of a short piece (roughly 2,700words) but I suppose I shouldn't doubt myself too much about how others may respond to the story. I'll try and work on more ...

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Radhika Diksha
07:53 Apr 14, 2021

don't get intimated you are a good writer. You have a talent for it.

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Radhika Diksha
07:53 Apr 14, 2021

don't get intimidated you are a good writer. You have a talent for it.

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:}} Silverstar
08:54 Apr 14, 2021

Thank you again :} I really appreciate it <33

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Eden Arbon
15:42 Apr 13, 2021

This story is amazing! I love the background, the setting, and the characters! I can tell there is a lot of feeling in this story and that you worked hard! Well, it payed off! From what I can tell, I don't think anything needs to be edited! (but I am new to writing) Great job!!! Also, I love the quote at the end! That is pure gold!!

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:}} Silverstar
07:41 Apr 14, 2021

Awh, thank you for the commendations! :]] I admit it I went a little ambitious for a 3000word story, but I'm surprisingly pleased to see the background, setting and characters unfold in the length of a short piece. And from what I've seen, fairy tales usually seem to end with some sort of moral or message that's been led up to from the beginning. I wasn't too sure about the quote considering I'd made it up, but your reassurances have now brought me more confidence in it, and for that, I am very grateful! :)

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Eden Arbon
14:25 Apr 14, 2021

Your are very welcome!! Yes, fairy tales do normally end with a lesson learned or moral! I LOVE the quote! Great job!

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Angel {Readsy}
04:05 Apr 28, 2021

Magnificent sentence "to trap the lovers in eternal frosted imprisonment" . Admirable sentence "an unforeseen pursuit of illicit intimacies" .Choice of words are outstanding and nifty, " Anxious ear of Iceland's" story's vocabulary , usage , terminology, expression, idiom articulation, intonation and oratory plays the role of astonishment and wonderment.

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:}} Silverstar
10:56 Apr 28, 2021

ahhgh !!!!!! my poor heart <3 !! It's delightful to hear you've resonated with my writing style and expressions!! (৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·༼ಢ﹏ಢ༽

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Angel {Readsy}
11:15 Apr 28, 2021

(•̀ᴗ•́): ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 o(〃^▽^〃)o ✺◟(∗*❛ัᴗ❛ั∗)◞✺“your story nurture curiosity, . I learnt with enthusiasm and sustain my learning throughout, very keenly engrossed and captivating, I never read such a vivid imagery

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:}} Silverstar
11:20 Apr 28, 2021

you are lovely !!! thank you once again ♥o (╥﹏╥)・゜・。

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Angel {Readsy}
11:22 Apr 28, 2021

; (•̀ᴗ•́): ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 o(〃^▽^〃), ✺◟(∗*❛ัᴗ❛ั∗)◞✺ you are prestigious and sublime sister,

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Angel {Readsy}
03:47 Apr 28, 2021

Excellent story; it has exciting turn of events; Images are awesome ; "the water curved into a clearing of the vibrant town", vivid description. Well done.

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:}} Silverstar
10:57 Apr 28, 2021

thank you, madam :} !!! I'm happy to see you were engaged with the imagery and events! (;﹏;)♡(⺣◡⺣)

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Angel {Readsy}
11:16 Apr 28, 2021

Thyia Wilkwine

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Angel {Readsy}
05:17 Apr 30, 2021

I am asked( "please stop spamming"? )It hurt now I will never comment

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Angel {Readsy}
03:44 Apr 28, 2021

And the Spring Fairy is here to sprinkle her dust to paint the daffodils; to bring birds. and song to your story.

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Angel {Readsy}
03:43 Apr 28, 2021

I am a nightingale; I read and sing your stories in the flowering garden and all birds, firefly, fairy and flowers are smiling and very thankful to you for writing such an excellent story.

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Greg Gillis
19:22 Apr 17, 2021

What a delightful story! I found myself drawn into the fantasy which they saw as life. It was very well written.

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:}} Silverstar
23:40 Apr 17, 2021

Thank you!! ♡ღ◡♡

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:}} Silverstar
02:58 Apr 16, 2021

Hi!! If anyone is interested in the original (now alternate) ending of the story, you may find it in this exclusive segment below! Read and enjoy :]] This journal belongs to : Thyia Wilkwine ・Date ~ August 21, 1659. I traversed through the wetlands and finally reached human civilisation, having arrived at the town of Borgarnes. There, I came across a busy fisherman at the edge of a rocky shoreline amidst shallow ends, the water curving into a clearing of the vibrant town, as the bend of a nearby bank of water channels through an incoming ...

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Angel {Readsy}
12:46 Apr 29, 2021

Thyia is the name of a Greek god and also a tree

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:}} Silverstar
01:16 Apr 30, 2021

I see... Well, I picked the name Thyia because it derives from the plant "thymus praecox arcticus", or put simply, the artic thyme, as it was a symbolic offering made from her father to her mother, the exchange serving as a catalyst to their relationship, having it bloom into a bond unparalleled to any other! And thus, their offspring was born! The outsider of all outsiders!

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Angel {Readsy}
12:41 Apr 29, 2021

May I ask what is the meaning of your name and how to pronounce it; it is originated from which language ; French ? Spanish?

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:}} Silverstar
01:19 Apr 30, 2021

My name means 'warrior' and is pronounced as 'lu-wee-sa.' It has a Spanish origin, since my family is filipino, and the way it is spelt is commonly used in the Philippines.

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Angel {Readsy}
04:19 Apr 30, 2021

That's your name actually someone is bothering me, I misunderstood extremely sorry

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Angel {Readsy}
05:13 Apr 30, 2021

please stop spamming? It hurt now I will never comment

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Angel {Readsy}
11:20 Apr 28, 2021

Your story is Royal and majestic; It is like brightest star in Milky Way; I am proud of you on writing such an intense and glaring.

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:}} Silverstar
11:23 Apr 28, 2021

ooooh ღ !!! what a pretty description :]]

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Angel {Readsy}
11:27 Apr 28, 2021

My friend birds are Woodlark ,Robin, Skylark, and the wren, their song is cheerful, clear, melodious , silvery-toned and ebullient and no instrument in all the world...that can afford more music then their melodious sound,,,I SEND THEM ALL TO YOU SO YOU WOULD WRITE A MAGNIFICIENT Story

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