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Furvilla Jamie
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Lauren and Jamie in Sweaters
late_pleistocene_-_danaume_story_contest.txt
Keywords deer 27409, sfw 25723, death 10986, puma 3541, salamander 1559, character development 1270, no-yiff 550, smilodon 486, learning 348, culture shock 8, story contest 3
Rog groaned as his feet hit the ground. Quickly he stretched out his arms to keep himself from falling over. Immediately he straightened back up and pressed his back against the boulder he had hidden behind. His heart was beating so fast he could hear nothing but his own blood rushing through his ears. And his own labored breathing. The young smilodon closed his eyes. Slowly it got better. He gulped, trying to fight the dryness in his throat and took a deep breath. His ears swiveled around, trying to pick up the sounds of his pursuers. For now it looked like he was in the clear but they would surely track him down soon. Those damn wolves were such persistent hunters. He cringed as he took a step forward. The ground here felt wet and boggy between his toes. The young hunter tugged on his loincloth. In addition to his tribal markings that had been painted on his body by the tribe's shamaness before he had left the tribe for the hunt -his first hunt ever- it was all that covered his body. He felt around, trying to find his sling, but it appeared that he had lost it while being hunted. He cursed to himself under his breath. Why did Mother Earth and Father Sky have to curse him so? First he had gotten separated from the rest of the hunting group in the mist of the early morning. Then he had accidentally stepped foot on the hunting grounds which belonged to a tribe of Dire Wolves. That tribe and his were in a feud for even longer than the tribes elders remembered but had come to an agreement only a few years ago to leave each other alone and respect each others borders. When Rog had come across their hunting band they had immediately attacked him so he had no chance but to flee.

He winced as he took another step forward. Somehow he had managed to hurt his foot when he had tripped over a root earlier. He grit his teeth, his large fangs rubbing over his chin. He had to get over the pain. He was faster than the wolves, but they had a lot more endurance so he had to make every second count. Resting was out of the question.

The large cat pat his belly. He was lean, but muscular with basically no fat reserves to speak of. It had become harder and harder to find food in the last few years. He couldn't even remember the last time he had heard of a hunter seeing a mammoth with their own two eyes.
He sniffed the air. He knew this marshy area. It was close to his own tribe's hunting grounds. In fact it marked the border! He allowed himself a smile. He just had to cross this smelly, wet patch of land then he could slow down and rest and after that make his way home. Sure he would return empty handed unless he managed to hunt down a small critter but at least he would return alive.

Slowly but surely he began moving forward. The terrain was tricky. One small misstep could be deadly. There were pools of water covered by grass a man could drown in and he wasn't even a fully grown man yet. He still had a winter or two until he could chose a mate even. He took another step forward, carefully tapping his foot on the ground before him looking for a place he could put his weight. Then he froze dead in his tracks.

"Cat! Thief!"

He turned around and looked behind himself. On top of the boulder he had hidden behind just a minute ago he saw one of the wolven hunters. Their leader as it seemed. He was the largest of the pack, about a head taller than Rog. Rog however was not a fully grown man yet. Compared to his father he was still just a kitten. The males of his tribe took great pleasure in slandering the wolves because of their comparatively short stature.

Rog raised his hands and shook his head. "No! Listen! Rog was..."

"Thief!" The wolf shouted again. By now another member of his band of hunters had joined him atop the boulder and handed him something. The wolf took the sling -Rog's sling as the smilodon realized- and began twirling it. Rog's eyes grew wide and he turned around again. He had to be quick now. Quickly he jumped forwards and was fortunate to land on a solid piece of ground. He took a quick step. Then another. Then he had to pause as his foot sank into the ground up to his ankle.

He next thing the cat felt was an explosion of pain on the back of his head. Then he felt the cold and wet of boggy water around him. He screamed, blinded by the pain, the shock of the cold water flooding over him keeping him from fainting. He splashed around in the thick, almost syrupy water trying to get a hold of anything to pull himself out again.

Then there was another explosion of pain. Then it went dark. The last thing he felt was cold slime filling his lungs as he was dragged down.



Then he felt warmth. His surroundings were still wet, but now they were warm. Pleasantly so. The saber-tooth groaned. He didn't feel anything unpleasant filling his lungs anymore, but there was something stuck in his mouth and throat. Was this death? Had Mother Earth taken him back into her womb again like the shamaness had said she would after he died? He moved his arms and crossed them over his chest as if to hug himself. They felt weird. More muscular than he remembered. His chest as well. Then he noticed the pain was gone. All things considered he felt great. As if he had just woken up from a particularly good nap on a sunny summer afternoon after he had had a large meal. He smiled, knowing if he opened his eyes he would see Mother Earth before him. He remembered the effigies the shamaness had crafted of her. A large woman with voluptuous breasts and a belly swollen with many young. After all all living things were her children.

Slowly he opened his eyes... and immediately closed them again. The liquid surrounding him stung in his eyes. He groaned in discomfort, his body jerking slightly. Then he began feeling sleepy...



When Rog woke up again he was lying on the ground. His head hurt a little but the dizzyness soon vanished as he sat up. He looked around himself. He was in a clearing in a forest. A forest, not the one he knew. And it was warm. Too warm for his taste. He rubbed a hand over his stomach, the shaggy fur parting between his fingers. He looked over himself. He looked a little more muscular than he remembered being but he also noticed his markings were gone. Did they wash away in the swampy water?

Slowly he pushed himself off the ground, closely monitoring his surroundings. There were trees around him. Small ones. He had never seen trees like those before. Their leaves looked weird and they smelled unfamiliar. The grass on the ground was also uncanny. It was softer than the one he knew and its color was a lot more vibrant.
Then he noticed there was no wind. He looked up towards the sky. Even that looked weird. The sun looked... wrong. He didn't quite know why, but it felt wrong. He took a small step forward. His foot felt fine again. He could clearly hear water splashing near him. That by itself was not weird, but it was the only sound he could hear. He stood crouched for a bit longer. Where was he? This wasn't Mother Earth's womb, was it? But it clearly wasn't the summit of the highest mountain either, where Father Sky sent bad people after they died...


After a few minutes of crouching Rog finally stood up straight. He wouldn't find answers if he just stayed in one place. Plus he was thirsty so he decided to find the source of the splashing sound.

The source turned out to only be a short walk away. There was fresh, clear water springing forth from a perfectly circular hole in a boulder and splashing into a small. It was so clear he could see his reflection in it when he knelt down next to the basin.
Hesitantly he dipped his hands in it and brought them up to his face to drink. The water was nice and cold. He dipped his hands in again and again, drinking until he had his fill. Only then did he notice he was completely naked, but it didn't bother him too much. It wasn't unusual for his tribe to be completely nude. Usually hunters wore loincloths to protect their more sensitive parts from thorns and such. He used the back of his hand to wipe a few drops of water off his chin. Now he was hungry.

As if on cue he noticed a new smell. Meat. Cooked meat. He felt his belly grumble and without hesitation made his way over to the source of the smell.
There, right where he had woken up was a pile of cooked meat right on the floor stacked high on what looked like a shiny plate of stone to him. And next to that was another pile of slightly different looking meat. And another! And next to that a pile of cooked fish! His mouth was hanging open, drool running down his chin. He licked his lips and stormed towards the piles of food. With careless abandon he bagn stuffing his mouth. The meat was warm and juicy, dripping with fat. He easily ripped it off the bone with his strong fangs coughing a few times as some bits went down the wrong pipe.

He ate and ate until he had his fill, but even after he was full there was more than half of the food still left on the weird tablet. Sighing contently he leaned back, licking the meat juices off his lips and fingers. It seemed lie he was in paradise after all, but then why did everything seem so weird. The juvenile saber-tooth felt like taking a nap after this feast but at the same time he also felt too uncomfortable to rest so he hopped back up on his feet. He would walk around some. Maybe he would find another person. He groaned, patting his full belly as he started walking and looked over his shoulder. Somehow he felt watched.

After a few feet hs stopped dead in his tracks. The trees in the distance looked weird. They didn't moce right as he walked closer to them. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Hesitantly he raised his arm, feeling around his surroundings. There was a wall there. He was touching a wall, but it had the colors of the horizon. It looked like more trees and the sky, but it was unmistakably a wall. Quickly he took a step back, his fur standing on edge. He had never seen anything like this. His eyes followed the wall. Now he could see it clearly and from what he could see it seemed to encircle  the entire area he was in. Even the sky seemed to be a part of this dome-shaped wall. He looked back at the piece of wall he was touching and jumped back in fear as the color changed.

Where there had been an illusion of sky and trees before there was now a dark rectangle about as high as he was tall and about twice as wide and standing in this rectangle he could see two anthropomorphic figures. One was about half as tall as he was. He looked like some sort of newt or frog, but not like any frog Rog had ever seen before. It had dark black skin with large, bright yellow spots all over it, immediately warning the smilodon of its toxicity. The other figure was a lot taller than the first one, even though it was still two heads smaller than Rog. She appeared to be some kind of deer, but Rog had never seen an anthropomorphic deer. She also seemed a lot more delicate than the kind of deer he knew though and he had never seen an anthropomorphic deer either even though he had heard stories.
The most peculiar things about these figures though was that they were covered in something. From their necks down to their feet they had... something on their bodies. Many people in Rog's tribe had covered themselves in pelts when the temperatures started to drop but those things were too smooth to be pelts and they were as white as fresh snow.
The two figures just stood there, seemingly talking to each other even though Rog could not hear a word they were saying. Carefully he shifted into a crouching stance and walked closer, keeping focused on the two until his face bumped against the barrier from before. He had to crouch down even more until his face was at one level with the doe's. He looked into her eyes, his face still pressed against the invisible barrier. He did not see fear in her eyes. It was a look of wonder and joy. Whoever these creatures were and whatever they wanted, they did not seem to want anything bad.
Slowly he raised his hand and placed it against the barrier. After a second of hesitation the doe did the same, placing her hand against his.



"I want to go in there." the doe said, her eyes still locked on the smilodon's. She could practically hear her colleague's jaw hit the floor. "You can't be fucking serious, Linda!" the fire salamander said. "That thing is eight feet tall and has pecs the size of watermelons! He'd rip you clean in half!"
Linda shot the salamander a quick glare. "That thing is still a child, Jerry. And he's clearly not violent. He's curious, just look at him." The salamander nervously readjusted his glasses. "He looks like a bodybuilder ate a strongman for breakfast."
Linda chuckled. "He did look a lot smaller in the pod, I'll give you that... Hey, can you do me a favor and get me a bar of chocolate from the vending machine?"
Jerry cackled. "You want to befriend him by feeding him god damn chocolate? How cliche."



Rog peeled his eyes off the doe as the other figure began to move and walk away. He pulled his hand off the barrier and stood up straight, looking down at the doe. He couldn't hear them, but maybe they could hear him?
"Who you?" he asked. He saw the doe's ears twitch. Maybe she had really heard him, but could she understand him? He asked her again, speaking a little louder this time. Again the doe's ears twitched. So she had heard him. He wanted to ask her something different but stayed silent as he saw the small amphibian return. He handed the doe something small and finally she removed her hand from her side of the barrier and walked off to the side until Rog couldn't see her anymore.

His ears perked up as he heard a hissing sound just a moment later as a part of the barrier that still had the colors of the trees and sky on it swung open as the doe stepped through it.
There she was, standing just a small distance away from him. She took a deep breath and walked towards him. Behind her the barrier closed again. She stopped when she was so close he could almost touch her and sat down on the grass, keeping her eyes on him the entire time. She patted the ground in front of her and looked downwards before looking into his eyes again. When Rog didn't move she repeated the gesture and finally he understood. Slowly he got down onto his knees before finally sitting down in front of the doe.

He sniffed the air. It was heavy with a flowery smell that seemed to be emanating from the doe. It was strong, almost unpleasantly so. Curiously he reached it, touching the white thing covering her body. It felt smooth and soft and very thin. He gave it a little tug, making the doe's body rock forwards a little. It seemed to some sort of covering, but he didn't know what purpose it served. After all it was very warm here.
He looked up at the doe's face again as she cleared her throat. Slowly she raised her hand and placed it on her chest, saying something in a unfamiliar tongue as she did so. Her voice sounded soft, yet strong and clear, not a glimpse of fear swinging in her words.
When Rog didn't react she repeated the gesture. This time he decided to try and listen.

"Lin-da" she said. It took Rog a bit until he understood what she was doing. She was trying to tell him her name. "Linnnn-grr" he tried repeating after her. Compared to hers his voice sounded deep and guttural. Slowly she nodded her head, a gesture he understood and repeated herself again. "Lin-da" she said slow and calmly. "Lin-dra"
She nodded again, a bit more enthusiastically. Then she raised her hand once more but instead of her own chest she carefully placed it on his arm this time. Probably because she couldn't reach his chest. This time he understood immediately. "Rog!"He said loud and clear. "Rog" She repeated after him with a smile. He nodded.

Linda stayed with him for a bit longer. He wanted to ask her so many questions, but he lacked the words to do so. He soon realized why she was here though. She tried to teach him her language. The first thing she taught him the name of was grass. It was hard for him to pronounce. Especially the double s at the end which was a sound his tribe's language simply didn't have but after a bit of practice he got the hang of it.
The next word was tree. This one was far easier for him. In fact that name was surprisingly similar to the word he knew.
The lesson kept on for a few hours with the doe teaching the smilodon many new words until his head seemed to be so full of new information that it would burst if he had to hear one new word.
Groaning Rog sat on the ground, holding his head with both hands. Linda chuckled understandingly "Rog sleep?" she asked with a smile. Sleep... that was the last word they had gone over. It had taken a while to convey the meaning using only gestures and body language. The smilodon nodded. He was feeling tired.
Linda got off the ground and reached into her pocket pulling out the bar of chocolate. Rog's ears twitched as she peeled back the foil. The unfamiliar crinkling sound made him curious. Linda pulled the foil away and stuffed it back into her pocket. She showed Rog the bar of chocolate and took a small bite before offering it to him. He took it with his thumb and index finger, giving the bar a god long look before sniffing it. The aroma was strong, but not overpowering and since the doe had eaten a piece of it it was clearly nothing dangerous. The texture surprised him as he bit down on the chocolate. It was hard at first, but quickly melted in his mouth, coating his tongue in a taste much sweeter than anything he had ever eaten before. He purred contently. Whatever it was it was good!


Linda was breathing heavily, her back pressed against the door she had just left the habitat through. "This was amazing! Jerry, did you see that!" The salamander was sleeping at his desk. Linda sighed and took a deep breath. She calmly walked over to his workplace and slammed her hand down right next to his head.
"WEH!" Jerry almost fell off his chair as he woke up. Hastily he readjusted his glasses and glared at the doe. "What the fuck, Linda!"
"I can't believe you were sleeping!"
"You were in there for hours you crazy bitch!"
"Language you stupid lizard. Where is he now?"
Jerry grumbled and turned towards the wall of monitors. From here every inch of the habitat could be surveyed. "There he is, wandering around by the waterhole. He looks a little distressed."
"Yeah, i had to sneak out while he was distracted by the chocolate. I couldn't risk him trying to follow me out of the habitat... oh look he noticed the bed the team set up." Linda smiled as she watched the saber-tooth carefully approach a pile of pelts that had been placed there by team of coworkers while she had talked to Rog. "No wonder he's distressed. This is a whole new world for him and he is all alone. Poor baby." She placed her hand on the monitor. By now Rog had lain down on the pelts. At least he seemed to be comfortable now. "Baby?" Jerry raised an eyebrow. "Someone's ovulating."
"Go fuck yourself, Jerry."


"Linda!" Rog shouted as he saw the deer approach him. He had been napping on the grass but now he jumped to his feet. With just a few steps he had reached the deer and wrapped his arms around her, almost crushing her in a hug. He only let go of her again when he heard her muffled protests. She groaned, fixing her hair and looked up at Rog. "Good morning, Rog. Are you ready for today's lesson?" The saber-tooth nodded. It had gone on like this for a some weeks now. By now their language lessons had long transcended simple vocabulary and even though Rog still had problems with some words and grammar he was quickly getting the hang of it. To quickly actually. Linda had studied communications and etymology which is why she was selected to be the one to teach the smilodon. Her colleague Jerry on the other hand had a masters degree in chemistry and physics as well as a doctorate in biology. He was the main reason she had a real smilodon populator to talk to right now.
"Linda? I have question." Linda smiled up at him "You have a question?" Rog nodded. "I have a question." The large cat cleared his throat. "Where my... where is my family?" Linda sighed quietly and sat down in the soft grass. Rog followed suit. "It is... hard to explain." She made sure to speak slowly and clearly. "You are a clone, Rog." The cat cocked his head sideways. That was a word he did not know. "That means an exact copy." Linda continued, placing a hand on his knee in an effort to comfort him. "Do you remember when you told me about the wolves? About the last thing you remembered before waking up here?" Rog nodded. "You died that day, Rog." The smilodon just nodded, his mouth slightly open. This didn't make any sense, did it?

"You remember Jerry, right?" Linda asked, giving him an encouraging smile. She had known the saber-tooth wanted to ask this question since the very beginning and she could only hope he would understand the answer she gave him. "He did it actually. See, the day you died... that was a very very long time ago." Rog slowly raised his hands in front of his face. Linda had taught him how to count. He knew he had ten fingers. Two times that was twenty. Ten more was thirty. So far they had gone up to one-hundred. "A...a hundred years ago?" He asked slowly. Linda shook her head. "No, much, much longer than that. More than a hundred times a hundred years ago in fact." Rog gasped. He hadn't known such an unimaginably large number even existed. "You know how meat turns bad when it is left out for too long, right?" Rog nodded. Linda continued, giving his knee a little squeeze. "See, because of the way you died in the swamp your body didn't turn bad, so Jerry could make a new one for you." Rog shuddered and closed his eyes. This felt all very unnatural to him. The shamaness had told him it was Mother Earth who made everyone's bodies. How could the little lizard man do that? Rog shuddered as he thought about Jerry. The tiny man was nice, but he had reeked of toxins. He groaned, placing his hands on the sides of his head. He felt dizzy.

"Do you need some time alone?" Linda asked. The doe had stood up again and gingerly placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. Rog stayed silent for a few seconds before he gave her a short nod. She smiled softly and leaned a little closer, giving him a small kiss on his forehead. "Okay, I will be back in the afternoon then. How about some fish for lunch?" Rog nodded again, but he hadn't really heard her.



"Look at him, he's crying..." Linda huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Yeah" Jerry muttered while eating his yogurt. "He's also gotten pudgy if you haven#t noticed" He scraped the small plastic container clean with his spoon before carelessly tossing it over his shoulder where it landed right next to the garbage can.
"Pick that up." Linda turned around and gave the salamander an angry look. "That's the janitor's job." he replied with a smirk, but slid off his chair to pick up his garbage. Linda shook her head. Sometimes Jerry behaved like a teenager even though he was quite a few years older than she was.
"Wait a minute... janitor... teenager..." The doe snapped her fingers. "I've got it!" She picked up the telephone and pushed the quick dial button for the reception.

"Hello, Linda Bucksley here. Could you do me a favor and send Hank up to habitat control room? Yes, the janitor. Thank you."

A few minutes later the door opened and Hank the janitor entered the room, pushing his cart of cleaning supplies in with himself. He was a heavy set man, a little on the short side. The puma looked really grumpy at first, but was overall a very nice fellow. "Mornin' Miss Bucksley. Dr. Lurchi." He tipped his gray cap, giving the two scientists a smile. "How can I help ya?"
Linda smiled at him. "Say, Hank... you have a son in college, right?"



Rog had not touched the generous serving of grilled fish he had been provided by the nice lab staff. After the first few days they had switched from sneakily placing it in the habitat to simply bringing it to him. It was smelling good and his stomach was grumbling, but Rog didn't feel like eating, which was a feeling he was very unfamiliar with. He had spent the last few hours lying down on his bed and thinking, only getting up once to drink. Right now he was crying. He couldn't stop thinking about his mother and father and how he would never see them again. He only stopped crying when he heard footsteps coming closer. He turned around on his pile of pelts, turning his back towards them. "Not hungry" he grumbled. He just wanted to be alone right now.

"Rog?" The saber-tooth's ears twitched. That was Linda's voice. "Rog, I have someone here you should meet." Rog growled, but turned around, slowly opening his eyes. The light stung a little, but he recognized the silhouettes. That on the left was Linda and on the right... No way...
Quickly he scrambled onto his feet, blinking a few times to clear his vision.
Next to Linda stood what Rog had first thought was his younger brother. The other feline was a head shorter than Rog and now he could clearly see it wasn't his brother after all. The color of his fur was slightly off, but pretty close. The other cat's anatomy was also not quite right. He looked more adult even though e was small, but the biggest giveaway was his face. The brows were not as prominent, the muzzle was smaller and shorter and most important of all he lacked the pride of every saber-tooth, the name-giving teeth. "Rog, this is Mike" Linda introduced the shorter feline. "He is a few years older than you. I thought maybe you to wanted to play a little?" Rog weakly shook his head. "Come on, big guy. Look, i brought a ball." Mike said with a smirk, twirling a brown, egg-shaped object between his hands. "Catch!" He shouted in a friendly tone, throwing the ball at rog, who managed to catch it with both hands. He looked down at the weird object and gave it a squeeze. It had a little give to it, but overall felt kind of hard. He looked at the other feline and threw the ball back. Mike had to reach a little to catch it. He spun it around once more and passed it back to Rog. This time he was prepared and easily caught it. By now he was smiling again. This was fun.


"He's not going to hurt my son, is he?" Hank watched the monitor with furrowed brows. His son was still passing the good old pigskin back and forth with Rog, but by now they had moved from being stationary to throw passes in a way that made the other run to catch them.
"Don't worry. He's a gentle giant." Linda replied with a chuckle and passed the janitor a plastic cup of coffee. The old cat gratefully accepted the hot beverage and returned his gaze to the monitor after a look. "It's just... he could lose his scholarship if he got hurt, the sport's the only thing bringing him through college."
Linda gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Like I said, don't worry."
"Yeah, and if he does get his arm ripped off Linda can pay for tuition"Jerry said with a shit eating grin from the other side of the room before ducking down. He barely managed to avoid the empty cup Linda hurled at his head.
Hank chuckled, finishing his own cup. "Why'd you have to send my boy in butt-naked though?"


Rog looked at the strange piece of fabric Linda had given him. It was white and sort of rectangular, It hand one large hole in the bottom and three smaller ones at the top. "It's called a t-shirt. Try it on." The doe said beaming at him. "See, you pull this end over your head and then your arms and head come out here." She tugged at the fabric, showing him what she meant. "And make sure the seams are on the inside and the tag is at the back."
Rog gave it a short puzzled look before sliding the fabric over his head. It felt weird and constrictive, but not uncomfortable. The tag at the back of his neck was a little itchy though. Unsure what to say he scratched at it. "Why do I have to wear this?" he asked. By now he was pretty fluent in this new language.
"Well... wearing clothes is a thing everyone agreed on at some point. It's called a cultural norm." Linda said pulling another garment from the bag she had with her. "Cultural norm." Rog repeated after her. He was learning something new every day.
"Now these. They're called underpants. You put your legs through here and then just pull it up."
"Underpants." he repeated again while putting them on. Those felt nice. Not unlike a loincloth but a bit tighter and feeling more secure.
"And finally these." Linda held out one more piece of clothing. It was blue and V-shaped. At first Rog couldn't make anything of it, but after taking them from the doe he realized they were meant to go over his legs as well. Linda chuckled when she saw him put them on without hesitation. "Good! Here, let me show you how the zipper and button work."


"Yo Rog!"
Rog almost dropped his knife and fork when he heard Michael's familiar voice followed by a knock. He jumped off his chair and turned towards the door before sheepishly turning back towards the table and looking at Linda. "Sorry, may I?" She shot him a smile and nodded. "Sure, go ahead." It had been almost six months now since Rog had moved from the habitat to his own actual room within the facility. Teaching the teenage smilodon table manners had been hard, but in the end she had succeeded. Smiling she watched him dart to the door and let his friend inside. Michael had visited Rog at least three times a week throughout the last year. He was still on his college's football team, partially the doe suspected because the playtime with the much larger cat was a pretty effective training by itself.
Jerry groaned from the other side of the cafeteria's table. "I'm leaving too. Taking a nap." Linda sighed. She managed to teach the caveman, but the scientist seemed to be unteachable.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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I wrote this story as part of Danaume's story contest

The theme was Culture Clash. Initially I wanted to write something about a kid moving to a new town, but then I realized... I could make something about a kid moving to a new time!
And so this story was born^^

CW: Death

Posted using PostyBirb

Keywords
deer 27,409, sfw 25,723, death 10,986, puma 3,541, salamander 1,559, character development 1,270, no-yiff 550, smilodon 486, learning 348, culture shock 8, story contest 3
Details
Type: Writing - Document
Published: 3 years, 1 month ago
Rating: General

MD5 Hash for Page 1... Show Find Identical Posts [?]
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Danaume
3 years ago
A neat story. I look forward to seeing where it goes, since it hints at more. Not much critique to give on this one, there were a few spelling and word choice errors, but nothing major. I look forward to Rog learning about the modern rules surrounding the birds and the bees.
JamieKaBoom
3 years ago
Thanks a lot^^ I'm not sure when I'll get around to writing a second part, but I'll try to get it done soonish^^
TerraMGP
3 years ago
Not what I expected, but a very good character study. I'd say the character work is best in this, and that's a good thing in my book. Rog has that 'Jamie from Dr. Who' quality in that he's primitive but clearly not 'stupid'.  Like you get the impression he could easily adapt to this clearly different life, and that's a harder tightrope to walk than many people seem to think.

Very good read!
JamieKaBoom
3 years ago
Thank you very much^^
That was exactly what I was going for. Good to know I seem to have succeeded^^
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