| Voice of the Neopian Pound |
Circulation: 196,122,682 |
Issue: 895 | 20th day of Running, Y22 |
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Short Stories
 | MoquotamorphosisNight paired eternally over Neovia. The fog hid the trees from far away. It was a strange winter. Most Nenovians stayed inside their homes, waiting for the season to be over.
by graevyard |  | Old FriendsThe figure did not linger in the streets of Neovia, as the thick night fog curled around her dark robe. She was bundled up tight against the night air, a hood hiding much of her face.
by herdygerdy |  | Ilere, the haunting of the woodsDusk began to fill the evening air, as Haunted Woods enveloped in the dark shadow of night, making the atmosphere more creepy and dangerous than it had previously been before the sun began to set. collab with tarons
by devotedly |  | Those Who Live In NeoviaKenny knew there were stories about that place. These stories were vague, but they existed nonetheless.
by dinduidindo |  | The ShadowI’ve been here now for two days, quite alone. I feel that it is imperative I write down an accurate record of what I have witnessed should I meet any unfortunate circumstances.
by havittaa |
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"Moquotamorphosis" by graevyard
Night paired eternally over Neovia. The fog hid the trees from far away. It was a strange winter. Most Nenovians stayed inside their homes, waiting for the season to be over. In a single house at the edge of the cobblestone road was a small balcony, with a single being on it.
Fansa Green looked through his telescope, observing Kreludor and the stars. Barely any poked through the thick veil of the late season. The Sleeper could barely be seen, her faint glimmer being accompanied by other smaller, nameless stars. Fansa scribbled the astronomical data on his notepad in snippets only he really understood.
Other Stories
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 The Flower Language of Neovia
Flower Language is not a means of communication widely seen outside of Neovia - sure, here and there you might find a land that attaches some meaning to a specific plant, but nothing to this extent.
by mollyscribbles |
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 Harker's Story
So that’s how we ended up here, Defender.” Harker leaned back in his chair and stretched his sore neck. It popped audibly, and the Wocky across the table made a face at the sound.
by tanikagillam |
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