Ankiteir 37, 1252 (Bright Season)
Dear Journal,
I should have known better than to go into the desert during the hot season. Wandering throughout the sand filled land made me realize how grateful I should've been in the ice and snow. Not to mention the nights were extremely dangerous. Matolusk Vipers were as long as an earth schoolbus, their head as big as the tire. When crawling on my hands and knees across the scorching sand, I was pick-pocketed by a kid half my size with a scorpion tail. I chased after him, later making my first Scorpian friend. He was an orphan named Sandwich, a mischievous kid he was. His hair was a messy dirt brown color and eyes the color of ripe Earth lemons.
He had scars on his chest, perhaps from other Scorpians, whenever I ask what happened, he changes the story. Sandwich told me that his kind was more of a loner breed that long ago lost their anarchy. They didn't quite have enemies, but had an unspoken hate towards Icees. I felt sad that Sandwich hated them too, I was sure he and Blizzard would have gotten along.
Scorpians could last days without food or water, and could grow a pincer at will. But when Sandwich did, he wasn't himself, it was like it corrupted him as rage took over so he only summoned the weapon when absolutely necessary. I was curious if all Scorpians felt strangely when using their pincers.
Sincerely,
Anonymous
YOU ARE READING
Breaking the Ice (Book 1)
FantasyLuna was an orphan all her life. She loved adventures and travelling, too curious for her own good. She will get nosy and enter a hostile kingdom, meeting a cold and handsome prince named Sleet. She will scam hot-headed fire demons in the heart of a...
