Stories I never fukin finished

Orignakl

This is one of the stories I made that actually aren't fanfiction. It's all from my shitty brain. Yep.))

1

In which Orb Weaver mugs

someone for pocket change.

-

Weaver's eyes parted, the sun peeking through her window as her sheep-skin bed which was really just a dip in the floor became less and less comfy. Fine, she'd get up. Orb Weaver was your average looking royal, a long tail with feathers that acted like a dress, great posture and a constantly lifted chin, pure white fur with black legs and white speckles on her hindquarters, along with white paws. Her neck fur was like a majestic half-mane, silky and soft. No noble could even wish to compare. Her wooden mask covered her face perfectly, only allowing a single blue eye to be seen. She was, as her parents claimed, perfect. Her hooked retractable claws made her excellent at self defence and she was raised to be respectful and kind. At the very tip of her tail sat a scorpion-like stinger, she was trained how to hide it in plain sight beneath her feathers and how to use it to knock someone unconscious. Weaver was the only heir, who didn't seem fond of any of anyone from this kingdom. It was a back and forth argument, which she always won.

Being royal, nobody except her doctor, parents, and spouse could see her face. This made her the target of many attackers in class, trying to rip her mask from her face as some sort of sick joke. She always came out on top, though. She was taught her fighting skills by only the best in the kingdom, however only her parents would know of her stinger. She walked down the hall, single watching blue eye glancing at all of the rooms she did not yet know the use of. She made her way toward the dining hall, figuring that her mother was hosting breakfast. She was, and the chefs were just getting ready. ''Hello mom.'' She gave a smile, hidden by the mask. Her mother wore her mask in the same fashion, one eye visible and her entire face covered.

''Ohh! My little Orby-Worby is awake!'' She cupped her daughter's face with her talons, pressing her mask into hers as if she were kissing Weaver's forehead. The princess's front paws flailed until she pulled away, frowning. ''Oh, don't look so bland, the food will be ready soon, be a doll and go get your father, please.'' The queen waved her talon, sending her daughter off to go get the king. The Western kingdom's king was the only one that still lived, for he had not participated in the petty wars over territory disputes. Weaver sped through the halls, drifting at each turn and continuing to run. She wasn't supposed to, but she did. She passed her father who was sitting on the balcony, overlooking the town. She came to a stop, running over to him.

''Dear, I heard you running through the halls.'' He blinked. He too wore a mask, although his fur wasn't two colors, it was three. Black, dusty tan, and a sandy colour. He was from the East kingdom, but he had adopted the customs of the West. He had a visible stinger, which was something only crosses or Easterns had. ''Don't you know you shouldn't do that?'' He asked rhetorically.

''Yeah yeah, mom wanted me to tell you that breakfast is almost ready and to come to the dining hall. Okay, bye dad!'' She turned around, running a few feet down the hall before her father's loud voice disciplined her.

''Ah-ah, walk. Princesses should not run down the halls, if you fall and break your mask you will have to go to your room until we get a replacement. Don't want that, do we?'' He sounded as if he were smirking.

''Yeah yeah, unlike you I use all my limbs to move and don't walk on my hind legs. But fine, if I have to.'' She snorted. The white and black molly walked until she was out of earshot, then started to run. ''Meh-meh meh meeh.'' She rolled her eyes, slowing her pace to a walk as she got closer to the Dining hall. Weaver lifted her chin slightly as she walked toward her mother, tilting her head. ''Dad's coming. I'm gonna sit down now.'' She pulled out a chair, then sat in it. Being upright was uncomfortable but technically everyone could do it- and that meant she had to in order to look proper. She just liked not being upright. She placed her paws on the table, which were quickly slapped.