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I've decided to post the first chapter of the story I started like YEARS ago just because I feel like it. The story was called "Broken Peaces"

Chapter One: The Foundling

A small figure is sitting at the bottom of a withered tree, covered with snow. His body is loosely covered by a ragged cloak. The only visible part of this boy is his tiny fox nose that sticks out of the sunken hood. He makes no fire, for he’s aware of no cold. He eats nothing, for he’s aware of no hunger. He doesn’t sleep, for he’s aware of no fatigue. He thinks of only one thing, the only thing that has continually run through his burning veins. The only feeling that poisons his mind. Revenge.

As he sits under the tree in the middle of a dead forest, his mind slowly fades away. His mind longs for his body to stand so his final wish is fulfilled, but the cold and lack of food and sleep have paralyzed him.

Others had come and offered to help the young fox-human, but it only took one look into his cursed eyes for them to leave him to his death. For his eyes were a dark violet, the sign of a young psychic. Since psychics have the ability to move and disfigure anything as they please, they are stereotyped as evil. But this one means no harm. He’s not evil.

He’s scared.

And dejected.

And alone.

The child’s vision starts to fade into darkness. Just before going into never-ending sleep he feels himself suddenly being lifted and wrapped in warmth. Then his world fades into utter darkness...

The smell of food revives him just enough to regain consciousness. All he sees is a blurred glow of orange that warms his frozen carcass. A mumbled voice is heard and a blurred figure crouches next to him. Warmth touches his lips and a burst of flavor goes into his mouth. With some difficulty, the delicious food is swallowed and instantly warms his stomach. Only seconds later, the small fox-boy slips out of reality once more.

Days later he awakens with a burning forehead, which is instantly cooled with a damp cloth, but soon becomes hot again. The young telepath’s body shakes with chills so bad his teeth chatter. Exhaustion eventually stops him from shivering, but makes his fever worse. The fox-human wants to open his eyes, but he’s too worn out to even try. A warm liquid is poured into his mouth, and almost instantly revives him a little more. After a few minutes, the child opens his eyes. With his vision less blurry, he can recognize the objects around him. A cozy bed surrounds him, covered with thick quilts. A fire burns in a huge fireplace across the room. Painfully, the weak boy turns his head and is met by a pair of concerned violet eyes.

These eyes belonged to a middle aged fox-man who the younger fox-boy had never seen before. The older man seemed to be talking in a foreign language which eventually became clear to the sick child as his health began to restore.

“...thought you were a goner,” was the first thing he understood. The man had a voice that was deep but soothing.

“What was such a young Zajerian as yourself doing alone in this bad weather?” the man continued.

The small psychic opened his mouth to speak, but bone-shattering coughs were the only thing to escape. The man returned the cold cloth to the child’s forehead and smiled worriedly.

“No need to explain to me now, just rest and get better.” The mature fox’s calm voice lulled the young one into a deep sleep. Neither of them knew yet, but this was the beginning of a strong friendship and an adventurous tale...

I wrote 5 chapters until I stopped.

I guess I could. It got kinda dry though in the last chapter, which is why I stopped.

It's on my fictionpress account.

o__p