Tright

Sidae-oh Tright is a collector, he has found the next generation of people to take the mantle of the Tright name and organisation. He has six places, four have been filled. The next two belonging to two children with bizarre abilities. (This is my attempt at a fantasy novel. The idea is about Sidae-oh looking for a successor, being that he only has a year left he is looking for someone to take over his cooperation, which deals in anything from solving crimes, to banking. Its a bit odd but there are a few characters i really like, and in the next chapter my favorite one that i drew up will appear.)

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1. Gwendolyn

Gwendolyn hated straw, she hated hay, and she hated the farm she was raised on. She hated looking for needles in a haystack, whether it is a real needle, or a killer among people. Straw, her daddy always said Gwendolyn's hair was like straw. That is most likely why she shaved it all off, and is now trudging down the street with a lamb in her arms.

By fifteen Gwendolyn looked after herself. And as she travels, barefoot, up a hot highway, far from the land her father owned, she wondered to herself. She wondered as the beating sun shone, why hadn’t she done this sooner. Gotten away from all of these people in the first place?

"What the hell kept me there Donny?" She asked the lamb, who was not only hungry, but traumatised by seeing his mother slaughtered.

Of course she knew exactly what the animal was feeling. She always had an idea what nature felt. She could hear the grass, not just its rustling, but its mumblings. She was the one who made her mother's Lillie's grow in the spring, just by talking to them. Bee's loved being around her. Insects never ate their flowers because Gwendolyn begged them not to.

Humans on the other hand were a mystery. It is almost like her perception of living things stops at humans. Or maybe its monkeys as well? Who knows? Regardless, if it stands on two feet and can lie, Gwendolyn is none the wiser.

That is why she is running. That is why she is escaping with the little lamb. Barefoot. That is why she has left her little farm, left her brothers and sisters. With no real direction to go in and no place to hide, Gwendolyn was fiercely scared she would be back at the farm in no time.

The road she is on is like a dessert. No people for miles around. Sand on either side. If you saw it in a picture you would think it was the Nevada high way. But you couldn't be more wrong. This is downright Christian country. No sinners here. Well, depending on your moral standing of course.

Gwendolyn was a sinner apparently. Her parents, well, her father, said so. She didn't give praise to god for the crops coming into harvest, and why should she? Considering she woke up at three am every morning and spoke with them, used her ability – she rarely dares to call it that – to make the crops grow. Why should she thank some deity for a job that she did. That she knows she did. And why, why oh why oh why, should she eat something she recently conversed with, and has done so for months.

The reason people are against cannibalism isn’t because it is something that is of the same species, though that is the definition. No, Gwendolyn knows why cannibalism is wrong, and why it needs a new definition. Gwendolyn sees cannibalism as eating anything that you can talk to. Eating anything that can convey an emotion to you in a way that you understand, something that can look you in your soul and talk to you, ask you how your day was, and something that cares. That is her definition of cannibalism. That mixed with all of the teenage rage has made her to run away. The reason all she would drink is water, and all she would eat was crops that reassured her that it was ok.

Is she insane? Well, if so, it would have made a brilliant begging to a detective show. A young girl convinced she is one with the plants, kills a farm of people to prove a point.

Luckily there is no murder. Just a family of people worried sick to their hearts about Gwen, their little Gwen, rebellious, sacrilegious, but theirs.

Gwen hates straw because she can hear them still. She can hear the straw, caught in half life. Caught and screaming for all eternity. It drives her insane.

Like i said before, Gwendolyn is not insane. She is however having a breakdown. And more often than not, a breakdown is a result of a short sharp shock. The shock being that her sheep, the one she had from infancy, that gave birth to the lamb she was holding, was slaughtered by her father for meat not five hours ago. And since then she has been running.

One thing that may drive her insane is the fact that the lamb in her arms has been dead for two hours. Thirst, starvation, heat, it was all too much for the little fella. The man who has been following Gwen knows this. He knows he needs to be careful. Like all the others so far he needs to be tactful. He makes his move.

"Gwendolyn." He calls from behinds her. Expecting the worst, a murder perhaps, Gwen turn, the little sheep held to her breast, tears in her eyes. "You must be starving."

"Get away from me."

The man reveals his face, kind; he is older, much older maybe eighty years old, very tall. He puts up his hands. "Gwendolyn the lamb is dead." He has a white shirt on under a long black trenchcoat. He pushed his frameless glasses up his nose. He looks grim.

"No." She whispers. "No, oh god no." All this time she had been running, she realised she had felt it slipping away. She had felt his words stop. His breathing. She was too caught up in her own head. The image of the sheep she had since she was little being killed fresh on her iris. She dropped to her knees, scuffing them slightly, causing tiny bits of blood to form.

"I can help it."

"You can't." She said emptily, her failure staring her in the face. "He is truly gone. Like you said."

"I said he was dead. Not gone." The man bent down, put his hand to the little lambs body. A flicker of light licked his woolly coat. Air filled its lungs. "Now, come with me, i can only do that once." He said. A smile on his face, an encouraging one at that.

"Just who are you." She said, not sure if to be afraid or not.

"I am like you. My name is Sidae-oh Tright." It sounded Japanese to her. "And i have been looking for so many like you."

"This is a dream, im just dreaming, i passed out on the road somewhere, while im here, my bodies being ravaged by coyotes."

"No, you are here. And i know your power. I know you can feel nature. You need help dealing with the power of it, i have seen you, talking with shrubberies. Who knew they liked Marvin Gay?" He smiled warmly. She felt herself loose her wits and she slowly began to sleep. Sidae-oh picked her and the lamb up, not once buckling to the weight and took them to the car he had parked down the road. "They heard it through the grapevine my child." He said.

He placed her on the backseat. The lamb in her arms, a blanket around her legs. He had a cooler of water in that back of his car. When she awoke she would be able to enjoy fresh mineral water. When she wakes she will have a shock. Sidae-oh is taking her to a new place, somewhere with six extra rooms, and two vacancy's still.

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