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Amber Hawkings: Humble Beginnings
Back on her home planet, one without a name, Amber was a runt. The smallest of her set, Amber was always left behind or picked on by the bigger, stronger foxes. Funilly enough, this also meant that she was the only one that wouldn't go home with wounds or bruises, as none of the other kids wanted to fight her, seeing her to be of no challenge to do so, and as such, worthless to bother fighting with.
Growing up a runt in a society where everything was based around how big and strong you could be was quite demoralizing. While the other vixen were out training to be hunters, she was stuck inside. Not literally, but her size had been ridiculed so much at this point that she didn't even bother attempting to go outside.
This continued on for the first decade of her life, until, at the age of ten, all of the new brood took part in the placement ceremony. The purpose of this ceremony, if it wasn't clear, was to determine what role in the tribe that cub would take of the four prominent roles in
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Literature
A Lost Thief Prologue
   It was a cold night in Berlin. The wind washed over the cobblestone pathways, and blustered through the flags that hung scattered through the old part of town. That, along with the feint footsteps of the occasional police officer, and the muffled roar of a raucous party several blocks away, were the only sounds that cut through the cool night air.
    A new sound rang softly through the air; the soft, near silent tapping of boots on rooftop. One of the officers on the ground looked up just a moment to late to catch the streak of grey that leaped across the gap between roofs. The blurs footsteps, despite its quick movement, were nearly completely silent. 
    As the shadow ran to the end of the roof and leaped off it, it looked for a second she would plunge right into the path of two guards. But with a flash of bronze, a soft *CHNK* sound rang out from the shadow, and what looked to be a rope shot out from some stick the shadow was holding, headed b
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We rounded the top of the hill, our feet aching after hours of walking through barren, frozen tundra. I seemed to be the only one left who had even a slight bit of hope left that the Vault existed, but with the way things were going even I was beginning to believe it was all in vain.

Our stomachs were all but empty, we were running purely on fumes. If this vault wasn’t nearby, we’d surely die out here from starvation. Or Frostbite. And then we’d become nothing more than a marker, or worse, food for the next sorry lot of survivors searching for the fabled vault.

Charlie let out a groan, seeing the large hill in front of us. Picking up a rock, he chucked it as hard as he could in frustration. The rock sank into the pile of snow, and made a clanging sound. This got our attention. I grabbed a rock myself, and threw it at the mountain, only to find it wasn’t really a mountain. It was a snow pile. And it was covering something, something metallic.

Surging with energy, all six of us scrambled over to the pile and began frantically digging through the loose snow. Our assault on it caused small avalanches, but none that were large enough to deter us from reaching our goal.

Steven stopped after a few minutes, and told us to as well. He made us back up, and he hurriedly climbed up a solid side of the hill. When he got to the top, and on the side of it that we were on, he was waist deep in snow. It took a few seconds for me to realize what he was doing. He was pushing the snow off the metallic object from the top rather than risking getting buried by pulling it out from the bottom.

Heather and Charlie were quick to go up and join him, followed shortly thereafter by Elizabeth, Savannah, and me. Between the six of us, we easily cleared the snow out from the top of metallic object, which now seemed to be a platform or container of sorts. Keeping my fingers crossed, I slid back down the mountain to the front, which had a massive door. It looked to be almost frozen shut.

I knew now that this was the Vault. There was nothing else for miles in any direction, what else could it be? Not wanting to give up when I was this close to my goal, I ram myself against the door, and feel it give slightly. Not a lot, but some. I ram against it again, and once again the door gives leeway. On my third ram i hear the sound of ice cracking, and I feel a second surge of adrenaline through my veins.

Again I throw myself at the door, this time getting a small running start. When I hit it, the hinges, which had frozen solid, shatter, and the door comes crashing down, with me in tow.

Moaning in pain, I stand, and look around to find myself in a massive steel tube tunnel. I turn around, look back out the open door, and gesture for everyone else to come in. It was warmer in the tunnel, noticeably warmer. It felt good to finally be out of the snow, and in some shelter.

Getting some help from Charlie and Steven, we move the door back into its frame, and barricade it with some boxes lying against the wall.

“Can you smell that?” Heather says, having traveled farther down the tunnel, standing under one of the large, flickering lightbulbs that illuminated the area. “Pine needles…” she says, before she takes off running down the tunnel.

“Heather, wait!” Savannah calls, and runs after her, with Charlie, Elizabeth, Steven, and me following closely behind. We run down the straight corridor, luckily seeing there were no branching paths that Heather could have ran down.

We catch up to her after a few minutes of running, seeing her attempt to pry open a pair of double doors, Savannah, standing behind her panting. Elizabeth walks over to Heather and pulls her off the doors. “Don’t go running off like that, you don’t know if anyone else might be in here. You know we all have to stick together.”

Heather sighs, and responds, “I know…i’m sorry…but…there are pine needles in there, I can smell them, can’t you?” she continues, her voice going from sad and apologetic to excited without missing a beat.

Pausing myself to take a few tentative sniffs, I realize that she was right. That was the smell of pine needles. It caused a slight tingling as i remembered back, all the years ago when i was a child, hiking out back on the coastal conifer forests in the late summer, feeling the warm Scandinavian ocean wind wash over me, the smell of cold salt water and sharp pine needles filling my lungs. I shake my head to break myself of the memory, and walk over to the double door.

I try pulling them open. Stuck. I try pushing. Also stuck. I try ramming it, like i did with the outside door, but this one doesn’t budge. Which makes sense, it wasn’t subject to the freezing temperatutes of the tundra, so it would be likely that nothing on this door would be frozen. I stand there, defeated by a locked door, the last thing standing between us and a chance at getting something to eat, something that could save all humanity. All stopped, by a locked door.
The Seed Vault
A short writing exercise from a few years ago. 
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Back on her home planet, one without a name, Amber was a runt. The smallest of her set, Amber was always left behind or picked on by the bigger, stronger foxes. Funilly enough, this also meant that she was the only one that wouldn't go home with wounds or bruises, as none of the other kids wanted to fight her, seeing her to be of no challenge to do so, and as such, worthless to bother fighting with.

Growing up a runt in a society where everything was based around how big and strong you could be was quite demoralizing. While the other vixen were out training to be hunters, she was stuck inside. Not literally, but her size had been ridiculed so much at this point that she didn't even bother attempting to go outside.

This continued on for the first decade of her life, until, at the age of ten, all of the new brood took part in the placement ceremony. The purpose of this ceremony, if it wasn't clear, was to determine what role in the tribe that cub would take of the four prominent roles in the tribe: Warrior, Scout, Shaman, and Guardian.

Going into this, Amber had absolutely no idea what she would do. She couldn't hit as hard as the other warriors, she had never really ran before so she doubted that she'd be a good scout;not to mention she had never set foot outside the village;, she lacked any and all real magical abilities, save for the natural healing rate of her species, which wasn't seen as magic to her but simply a biological process, and she lacked the incredible durability and stopping power of the guardians.

Her doubts were confirmed, at least for the first ceremony, the Warrior's Right, where she was knocked out of the circle almost as soon as the battle had began, spotting a bloody nose and a fractured collarbone. She had, as expected, been the first one to lose, so she got to sit off for a while and heal, getting help from one of the shamans to speed up her recovery.

Over the next three days, while the Warriors Right continued on, Amber rested in the medical hut, healing slowly and steadily from the broken bones she had received from the first fight. She wound up missing the Trial of Shamans, or the test that those that failed the Warriors Right would go through to see if they possessed the magical abilities to join the ranks of the Shaman healers in the tribe, but she managed to recover just soon enough to partake in the final test, the Scout's Path.

The final test was one that tested both endurance and speed. Given her previous experiences with most things physical, Amber went into this test with relatively low hopes and expectations for herself. When the footrace started, she was among the only four left that had failed the previous two rights of passage, and even then the shortest of the four around her were a good foot taller than her measly 8'5". Even in the face of this, she knew she had to try, and at least finish somewhere close to the four around her. If she didn't, her tribe didn't care much for dead weight, so if she failed to be placed in either warrior, guardian, shaman, or scout...she'd likely be exiled.

Luck was on her side that day though. Much to the surprise of herself and her fellow runners, with the horn blow that signalled the start of the race sounded, Amber took off, and managed so much faster than the others that she crossed the starting field and entered the forest before the other four were even able to get a quarter of the way across it. She knew the trail to follow by heart, she had walked along it often. She ran through the woods, up the side of a mountain, and then spiraled back down a second path. She then swam across an oceanic lake to circle back around to her village. All things considered, she not only managed to finish almost two hours before the others did, the run taking her five hours to complete in its entirety, she set a new precedent and finally earned her place in the tribe, as the newest Scout.
Amber Hawkings: Humble Beginnings
A basic introduction of a new OC character I'm working on. Pink Alien-muscle fox is pretty much what she is. I'll have a character description written up soon enough, as I don't have art of them just yet. 
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mariokartsonicriders

Artist | Student | Traditional Art
United States
Current Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Favourite genre of music: classical
Favourite style of art: digital and traditional
MP3 player of choice: computer
Skin of choice: soft and fat
Favourite cartoon character: Apple Jack
Personal Quote: "when life gives you lemons, make apple cider, and leave the world wondering how you did it&am
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