Chinchilla's Trees: A Short Story

A lithe form slinked through the pristine snow, her paws going numb from the constant unbridling unsuccessful search of prey. Being an experienced hunter now, PigeonEye knew that this was no small dilemma, but an ominous sign. She and a hunting party of three warriors had been sent out to hunt hours ago, and yet still, the terrain seemed barren, devoid of a stable amount of prey to feed their clan. The she-cat shivered and paused for a moment to survey they area, her fellow clan-mates halted and watched her with weary appearances, each thin and poignant. PigeonEye ignored them, an unshattered defiance and determination to serve her clan burning within her. If they did not bring back food when they returned, why return anyway. She was willing to die for her clan, even if she would die for a cause that might be remembered as pitiful foolhardy stubbornness.

of her trees, and farm. It gave her comfort when she ws living in Bybanks because she was all around these

She gets around them and manages to mount her horse. She encourages the horse to move, and soon they are sprinting down the street. She could hear the faint sounds of explosions and screams behind her. Whipping out her map, she finds a random route to follow. She pushes forward and ignores the chaos behind her. The trees become thicker around

senses in the twelfth hour when she climbs high into the trees early one morning

She retraces the mountain of her ancestry every single day quietly. In the wind she can smell the scent of her ancestors made from crushed pale blue leaves of the mountain. The smell is coming from up the mountain side from which her ancestors descended from, where the mountain lion laid down and ate their deer. It is better to be where she once came from, where her ancestors came from, up on that mountain watching nature. The elderly that remember it once are all gone, the old songs of ancestors are forgotten, and the story where it all began died with its memory. The memory of the culture dances in the snow frost moonlight, swam in the freezing mountain water, went through the

Through her journey she comes across some physical challenges. At the beginning of her walk through the woods her dress gets caught in a thorn bush, which is the first physical obstacle to be faced. She tries her best to free her dress without ripping it, but it seems that every time she frees herself, she gets tangled more. She talks to the thorn bush and says, “ Thorns, you doing your appointed work. Never want to let folks pass—no, sir. Old eyes thought you was a pretty little green bush.” As she trembles still trying to free herself, the bush accepted her mistake, and gets loose from the thorns. She continues on her journey, she notices that the day is coming quicker to an end.

Blessed he felt then, for he had made it up the mountain! Trees were little, but Finley did not care, he instead felt grateful for what was given. There were not many trees in the area, but what was lost was made up in the animals; birds and minor predators were being used for food in the area. He saw the houses were tall and shaded, which was

and she loved a little boy. And everyday the boy would come and he would gather her leaves and make them into crowns and play king

"She did not take the broad, beaten road which led to the far-off plantation at Valmonde. She walked across a deserted field, where the stubble bruised her tender feet, so delicately shod, and tore her thin gown to shreds. She disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick along the banks of the deep, sluggish

She was all alone- her coat soaked to the pelt- causing it to lie flat against her, freezing her to the core. Unable to get warm or dry, and too scared to venture any further from her herd, the doe stood strong. Her energetic parade had dissipated into a mere stroll, yet the furrows in the earth were getting ever deeper. The doe’s young muscles demanded rest, although her instincts and frozen limbs kept her

Ever since the first person to climb Everest, many courageous people have been climbing, mountains, cliffs, and canons. This one special little girl decides to climb a humble tree creating a new journey for both the girl and the tree. In the passage The White Heron by Sarah Orne Jewett the little girl climb a magnificent tree. The author uses languages and selection of details to make the climbing of the tree into a dramatic adventure. The little girl is Sylvia and she is insignificant to the tree.

The Canada Red Chokecherry proves to be an impressive sight to those who bear witness to its jewel-toned leaves and its regal stature. To most, the chokecherry tree’s appearance alone is enough to leave an impression, however, it brings to mind memories of my younger self and my time with my grandmother. The old chokecherry tree outside her house was always a welcoming sight when approaching her house; a maroon colored beacon of the experiences ahead of me. The Canada Red Chokecherry tree eye-catching nature and unique appearance show the true majesty of this impressive tree.

She was standing in front of the sacred tree that everybody were talking about. It looked so powerful that Sophia felt afraid of it. Each person were doing the assigned tasks that the sacred tree told them to do this morning. Since she arrived to the meadow she had the desire to talk to it and she finally had the courage to do it.

Everyone stopped their work, got into a huddle and we began to create a plan. We split up and searched all of the forest. I saw an old but familiar face when I arrived at a cliff by the sea. It belonged to the evil Queen. When I looked down, I saw a small piece of an apple that looked exactly like her dreaded poisonous apples. I picked it up. Approach Jolly approach. I called myself my old name because I needed all the optimism I could get. Without thinking, I charged at the cruel witch. I jumped on top of her, wrestling to get a hold of her. She then turned the tables and grabbed the apple from me.

When Junzheng was just three years old, in 1941, the Japanese invaded the area near her village. To escape being beaten, tortured, or killed, Junzheng’s family fled into the mountains that surrounded her rural town. She recalled that, “Everyone fled into the mountains. Some people led their cows up with them, and even the cows were terrified. The mountains were steep and people were afraid of falling.” Junzheng’s mother and two older sisters were the ones who carried her into the mountains, because she was only three. The panic and hysteria of the fleeing villagers meant that they were running for their lives, and were trying to leave as fast