All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Dean. Intro. Ehem.
The curly-haired girl snatched his ankle, muttering profanities.
"Are you crazy?" she hissed, her wingtips quivering anxiously.
He laughed. "Lighten up, sweetheart, it's only a game."
"You're going to get us killed!" a smaller boy yelped, clinging to his shoulders, staring fearfully at the ground far below.
"You forget, Dean--I CAN'T FLY RIGHT NOW!" The girl cried, shifting nervously against the cliff face, trying to tighten her weakening grip on his shoe.
Dean laughed as the ground about the edge of the cliff began to crack and splinter, like breaking ice. "Oh, Chiara, Chiara... you silly girl..."
"PULL! US! UP!" The boy on his back cried helplessly.
"Raaaaast," Dean smirked, shifting his elbows around on the flat ground and heaving a sigh. "you have to say sorry."
"JUST APOLOGIZE!" Chiara snapped. Dean's shoe had begun to slip.
Dean yawned and laid his chin on the edge of the trench, picking up a relaxed hum as more cracks formed around his arms.
"Why should I apologize?" Rast yelled helplessly. "He's the one that stole all the fruit from--"
A sharp crack sounded, and a stream of dust and sand filtered down into Chiara's face. "I DON'T CARE," she screamed, flailing in sudden panic. "I'VE GOT TOO MANY THINGS TO DO BEFORE I DIE...!"
Dean chuckled, finding this extremely amusing. "I feel like this rock supporting our weight over the chasm won't hold up for much longer..."
"RAST!" Chiara shrieked.
"OKAY!" Rast sighed heavily. "Dean, I'm sorry for eating your precious orange--I'll never--"
"GET ME TO HIGHER GROUND RIGHT NOW, BEFORE I CHEW YOUR FOOT OFF," the curly-haired girl dug her nails into Dean's shoe, glaring murderously up at the two boys.
Dean chuckled, and vines suddenly crept silently down the edge of the cliff, curling themselves around ankles and waists and wrists and knees, then began dragging the three kids onto safer ground. One last heave brought Dean's leg and Chiara's body back to the edge of the canyon, and Dean climbed casually to his feet, wiping off the shoe the girl had moments before been clinging to.
"You soiled my kicks," he complained softly, smirking down at her.
She shivered where she lay, her folded wings tattered and sooty, but glared right back up with all kinds of furry in her gaze.
"That was interesting," Rast coughed, rubbing his red hands. "I had to hang on so long that I think I'm getting major callouses..."
"You're welcome," Dean chuckled, snapping his fingers. The vines slowly unwound themselves from the beings and crept away, reeling back into crevices and mini-trenches along the edge of the chasm.
Chiara sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "What next, captain Weasel?" she asked Dean irritably.
"Well," Dean said thoughtfully, drawing himself up with a grin. "I was hoping we could try bunjee jumping."