Writing Sample (it's from a while ago lol): One night, tens of thousands of years ago, a dark and bloody war was fought. Hatred ran deep in the veins of the fighters, valiantly dying in the pure moonlight. A river - a river of a loathing so deep, not even the most valorous of conquers could claim - wept silently into the lake in which it led, morning the king that lay on it’s shores. Or so the people liked to say. The river was actually laughing, laughing his life away at the beaten down king. The king would survive without toil. That was certain. But, you see, the river liked toil. It was an evil river, after all. But as the king drew his final breath, he realized that he had overlooked something. The river’s waters, like in many lives, lies, and anything else, were not black, nor white. Not good, not evil. Not pure, or impure. It was simply a river. The king was angry. He knew the river had a soul, and was only tricking his mind, and was overwhelmed with fury. He began to scream, and yell furiously into the night. But seeing as everyone was dead after the war’s untimely events, no one arrived to help. The king soon drew his final breath. The final breath. He cursed the river, with a curse so evil it is unspoken of. A curse so wicked, it’s heart as sharp as a dagger’s tip, that even the mightiest of soldiers dare not to speak of it. A curse bestowed upon the river, to join with its heart and become what they call today, the River of Blood.
I'm sorry if there misspellings, my computer always lags so hard :,) PRESS M TO MUTE THE MUSIC I MADE MYSELF ON SCRATCH :,)))
