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[I'm Murrin]

Here's another part I managed to write. I think I'm having a little trouble with tense, can anyone help?


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Myra closed the door behind her as she shook the snow from her cloak. She felt weary to the bone, and couldn't wait to start a fire to drive the cold from where it had burrowed deep inside her. She had returned from the town early, to avoid having to walk home in the dark. Tonight was the new moon, and she could easily have become lost in the knee-deep drifts. At least that would be over soon - the worst of winter is over, and spring will be on its way. The winters were always harsh this far north, and this year had been worse than most - snow trapping people in their homes for days, wolves coming closer to the village than they had ever dared before, and rumours of strange deaths in the snow. None of it really mattered to Myra - she had lived a long life, and had survived many bad winters, although she couldn't remember one quite as bad as this year's had been.

She had been visiting the temple, as she did every week, to pray for her Jaret's spirit. It was three years since he passed away, and she still missed him. Their three children had moved away long ago, and only came to visit once or twice a year. They had grown, and Jon had a family of his own to look after now. They have no time for a poor old woman near the end of her life. Still, she would have enjoyed their company on this night, as sat in her old chair by the hearth. She often felt lonely. And tired. Ever so tired since Jaret was gone. She knew she didn't have long before she would be with him again, and that thought comforted her.

The fire she had started was small, and did little to remove the chill from her bones - it never could remove it entirely - but tonight it was truly cold. She struggled back to her feet, and headed for the back door, pulling her cloak back on as she did. There was still a pile of neatly stacked firewood in the yard, and she felt it was worth a few minutes longer in the snow for some real warmth. When she looked out the door, though, the snow had stopped. Well, that's one small comfort she thought, and started to wade over to where the logs were piled. She had a young man from the village come out and cut it for her when she had need, and she often had this winter.

The snow may have stopped falling, but the wind was still blowing strong, and she had to hold onto her cloak with both frail hands to keep it wrapped tightly around her. She had to struggle through where the snow had piled up against the fence to reach the wood, but when she did, she quickly gathered what she needed and turned to head back. The way back was easier, following her own trail through the snow, but her hands were full and her cloak was spread out behind her in the wind, exposing her to the full force of winter.
As she neared the house, she could hear the increasing gale rattling the shutters on the windows, shaking the branches of the trees, and an almost imperceptible groaning that she couldn't find the source of. When she finally came near the doorway, the sounds became louder as the wind suddenly became a gale.

The strange noise she had been hearing changed. She looked up just as the snow piled on the sloping tiles of the roof began to slide. She tried to run, forgetting the snow she stood in up to her ankles; her feet caught, and she fell down onto the firewood she had gathered as the snow crashed down on top of her, disturbed by the sudden wind.

Then, as she lay there, buried, the weight pressing on her back squeezing the breath from her lungs, the wind stopped.

Silence filled the cold winter night in the woods, and snowflakes began to fall.

[aTOMiC]

Adeptly crafted, Murrin. You wield your narrative with appealing expertise. I enjoyed it thoroughly. Well done.

[Skyweir]

i must declare i am having trouble keeping everyones stories seperate in my mind lol

Myra closed the door behind her as she shook the snow from her cloak. She felt weary to the bone, and couldn't wait to start a fire to drive the cold from where it had burrowed deep inside her. She had returned from the town early, to avoid having to walk home in the dark. Tonight was the new moon, and she could easily have become lost in the knee-deep drifts. At least that would be over soon - the worst of winter is over, and spring will be on its way. The winters were always harsh this far north, and this year had been worse than most - snow trapping people in their homes for days, wolves coming closer to the village than they had ever dared before, and rumours of strange deaths in the snow. None of it really mattered to Myra - she had lived a long life, and had survived many bad winters, although she couldn't remember one quite as bad as this year's had been.

beautifully written

She had been visiting the temple, as she did every week, to pray for her Jaret's spirit. It was three years since he passed away, and she still missed him. Their three children had moved away long ago, and only came to visit once or twice a year. They had grown, and Jon had a family of his own to look after now. They have no time for a poor old woman near the end of her life. Still, she would have enjoyed their company on this night, as sat in her old chair by the hearth. She often felt lonely, of late.

this is a small thing .. but "of late" is not entirely necessary .. "She often felt lonely" is imho enough .. succint and direct! you have already explained her circumstances and that her family dont really have time for her .. since her son has a family of his own .. presumably children .. and if they are plural .. then she has been without company for sometime .. and you covered that quite well in the preceding sentences imho.

And tired. Ever so tired since Jaret was gone. She knew she didn't have long before she would be with him again, and that thought comforted her.

The fire she had started was small, and did little to remove the chill from her bones - it never could remove it entirely - but tonight it was cold. "it was cold" or "tonight was cold".

She struggled back to her feet, and headed for the back door, pulling her cloak back on as she did. There was still a pile of neatly stacked firewood in the yard, and she felt it was worth a few minutes longer in the snow for some real warmth. When she looked out the door, though, the snow had stopped. Well, that's one small comfort she thought,

excellent .. though when you add a thought into a sentence and say she thought .. it is ok to put the thought in parenthesis.

and started to wade over to where the logs were piled. She had a young man from the village come out and cut it for her when she had need, and she often had this winter.

The snow may have stopped falling, but the wind was still blowing strong, and she had to hold onto her cloak with both frail hands to keep it wrapped around her.

you could even add .. "too keep it wrapped tightly around her ..or snugly .. or whathaveyou or just leave it as is .. its ok.

She had to struggle through where the snow had piled up against the fence to reach the wood, but when she did [,] she quickly gathered what she needed and turned to head back. The way back was easier, following her own trail through the snow, but her hands were full and her cloak was spread out behind her in the wind, exposing her to the full cold of winter.

or .. "exposing her to the full force of winter" ..or "exposing her to the full measure of winter" .. or exposing her to the full force of the cold" .. "exposing her to the full force of the icy wind"/ "full force of the icy cold" even but the latter is not the best imho.

As she neared the house, she could hear the increasing gale rattling the shutters on the windows, shaking the branches in the woods around the house, and an almost imperceptible groaning that she couldn't find the source of.

When she finally came near the doorway, the sounds became louder as the wind suddenly became a gale. The strange noise she had been hearing changed. She looked up just as the snow piled on the sloping tiles of the roof began to slide. She tried to run for the door, but her feet struggled in the snow, and she landed on top of the firewood she was carrying as the snow crashed down on top of her, disturbed by the sudden wind.

awkward sentence .. a bit on the long side.

Then, as she lay there, buried, the weight pressing on her back squeezing the breath from her lungs, the wind stopped.

Silence filled the cold winter night in the woods, and snow began to fall.

ooh how very sad .. it would seem you enjoy killing off your main characters in the most horrendous ways LOL

poor old woman .. being slowly crushed to death by the weight of a snow fall .. smothered by the very cold she had tried so desperately to escape.

well thats sad

is that it for the poor dear then?

very well written Murrin .. i couldnt see any problem with your tenses but i may not be sufficiently astute .. but from my general read it all sounded good.

I love the way your writing flows .. you maintain a a steady rythm to your story .. as it unfolds piece by piece .. Well ordered .. all leading to its ultimate conclusion ..

ultimate in a creative sense .. not inevitable .. there is nothing predictable in this piece ..

I certainly didnt expect the old bird to end up buried under a mile of snow in front of her own back door!

very tragic .. [/u]

[I'm Murrin]

Thanks for the tips - they do help, although you don't seem to think I need as much changing as I do (I thought I did better on this than the first one).

I'm not too keen on the way I come up with the story. When I sat down to start writing I had no idea my character was female, or that she was old - that just came about while I typed. The only thing I was sure of was how it would end... I think I should learn to plan, but whenever i've tried to write something by planning beforehand it doesn't work and ends up really bad.

Edit - Okay, I tried to rewrite that long sentence - not sure if I just made it worse.
Noticed the common theme between the two parts then?