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"The Girl Guard" by erroro
Father sighed, looking pained.
"Okay, you win. Just be careful! Maybe you'll understand when you have your own child," he said, anxiously adjusting his glasses and surveying my Brightvale trainee uniform. It was well worn and slightly too big, creases forming where I was scrawniest. To me, it felt shiny and new, giving me the energy to stand straight and proud, like a proper guard.
"Don't worry! I'll be home every weekend, and on holidays. It'll be like I'm not even gone," I reassured him. He glanced at his battered wristwatch, eyes widening.
"You're late! You have to go!"
"Alright, Dad. Bye!" I said, running down the stone path. He waved half-heartedly.
"Goodbye… Brynn," he called back. I kept on running until I was out of breath. I looked back to see Father still standing there, a pin prick of orange in the distance.
I entered the arena, stomach twisting in knots. It seemed rather small, dirt covering the ground with a patched roof so the rain wouldn’t get in. Different weapons aligned the walls, from spears to maces to weapons I doubt Fyora could name.
But what made me nervous though were the boys talking amongst each other. I recognized most of them as they had walked by my house just a few days ago. I ought to thank them in a way, because their taunts had made me want to join the guard in the first place. They all turned staring at what they expected to be the new boy.
Somehow, in some way, you have to get through until you can curl up in bed and lose yourself from the world. You can do it, you tell yourself. You did it yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before. You have to do it.
|Welcome to White River: Part Three|
She breathed in slowly, steeling herself as she entered.
She could feel the change in the air as she entered, as heads slowly began to turn and stare. She spotted Enid, wearing a kilt and a dark brown shirt, a long swath of tartan fabric draping down her shoulder across her chest. She smiled, and gave Portia a thumbs up.
|Return to Lynwood: Part One|
Of course Terra was a grown owner, but Isengrim could not help but dote on her. She had saved him from himself, showed him the utmost kindness and patience when he was at his worst, and inspired him to have the strength to change, and for that he owed her the world.
But he had yet to figure out a way to obtain the world for her, so for now he would make do with being the best Neopet he could be for her.