It's just interesting trying to figure out how to tell the story. I'm thinking there will be a group of people, of which Lunet is a part of, and they have access to fire. They use it sparingly and keep the secret of the other group of people, the typical "cavemen," which I haven't figured out yet. I probably won't through in a pet woolly mammoth, even though a mammoth will definitely show up in the story. Somehow. I'll probably give Lunet a strange looking wolf-dog thingy.
I have way to many stories, but I'm enjoying this current idea, so, who knows, maybe it'll be successful. In a couple of days, I'll decide which priority folding (yes, I sort my stories by priority folders) to throw the thing it. My guess is it'll end up in the 1.5 priority... >.> Well... enjoy:
I live in a world of monsters. I live in a world of brown and black, of spears and arrows. I live in a world of nightmares and daydreams, all wound up in a few simple pictures. History is all around me, because I survive in the tapestry of ancient pictures. My worst fear is a compilation of simple lines; a rough sketch of several humans, spears and the heart pounding feeling of the chase.
My name is Lunet, and this is my nightmare.
I snapped the sticks against each other. Sparks landed on the spindly twigs, but the fire refused to catch. The cold air blasted against my skin and one spark danced away from my protected hole in the cliff. The spark wafted through the dark air before sizzling out. I pressed my back against comforting sheets of stone. Fire would be unsuccessful in this wind. More than that, fire would be dangerous in this weather.
I shuddered. The wind numbed my cheeks and cut into my skin. The cold was apart of my life now. A dark silhouette passed in front of the moon. I jammed my fire-sticks in the back of my parka and pressed as far into the cliff face as I could. Maybe whoever it was wouldn't notice me. If there were Prowlers loose around here, I was dead. The silhouette grew larger, coming closer and closer and closer to my position. I drew in a deep breath, knowing that not breathing because I did not know what was coming close could be more deadly than just staying still. My hand inched towards the tiny arrow strapped to my opposite wrist.