ok ,here goes a serious

[hardsciencefanagain]

piece
It could ALMOST function as a kind of short story,unless someone says ,hey ,why end there?
I leave the genre distinction to others
No,It's not a WIP.

Wynna needed to go through the woods to get home quickly again.
She would have liked to take another route, but the way through the woods was the shortest.
The forest was dense, a veritable wall of bark,twigs,undergrowth, rapidly losing all colour in that short period after twilight where one remembers the daylight, but feels like it is never going to return. The wind made the treetops sway,dropping rainwater.
She used a muddy wagon trail abandoned a long time ago that provided some form of footing,but not much.
Wynna was thankful the moon would be coming up shortly, otherwise she barely would have been able to see.
She almost slipped in the mud,and slowed down her pace.
Branches were tortured and broken by the wind.They groaned a chorus of woody misery.
There were roots everywhere,lying in wait to trip the unwary traveller.
Owls' and crows' wings sounded, and she heard the rustle of small creatures moving about in the underbrush.
The wind slapped at her cap and it flew away like a dark embroidered helplessly flapping bird.
She was in no mind to go after it.
Clouds opened up,and a silver lance speared the darkness.At last she could see a bit.
She felt for her amulet,stroked its inscriptions and carvings.She mumbled an icantation:”Tribemother, shield your child from harm with your loving allseeing vigilance.”
She stopped walking.
A pale creature had appeared in front of her, an evanescent wisp of moonlight, more the ancient remembrance of a bygone being than an actual one. She didn't dare go on,now.
A soundless voice entered her mind,unbidden.Wynna felt as if a piece of bread was being stolen out of her mouth after having fasted for days.An unheard -of demoniacal misdeed, the hideously violent robbery of what was hers and hers only.
“What brings a mere mortal to my domain?”
Wynna's mindvoice retorted.“And what make you think you can enter my mind like some kind of tribemother?”
“Be still, child of blood and soil.Your being here is dishonorable.”
“I meant no harm.The way through the woods saves time.I have food to bring back to my
family.Some of it might spoil.”
“Forgive me my act then.We Ythia have lost knowledge of the ways of the flesh, its impatience and its needs.We are like the dust that tells of the passing of ages. ”
In front of Wynna , moss, mouldy pieces of bark, rotting leaves,tiny creatures and twigs rose from the ground. A veritable creature of decay now stood before Wynna: eyeless, mouthless,with skeletal branches for limbs, a deer's ribcage for a body. The head- like lump on top was moving and fluttering in the wind: a mass of tiny slithery crawling creatures, bits of bone and putrid forest floor litter. Small parts of it were being torn off by the wind.
The Ythian now spoke with a rustling husky voice, emanating from a dead crow's beak.
“However, some form of penalty for your sacrilegious trespassing needs to be exacted.”
Wynna tried to move and for some reason couldn't.
The crow's beak was now a hand's breadth away from her face, right in front of her eyes.
An incredibly foul stench assaulted Wynna's nostrils.She wanted to gasp,but her lungs and throat failed her. And although it was cold, perspiration glistened on her forehead.
The susurrating toneless voice whispered.
“My,my child,you have beautiful eyes.I suggest some sort of trade.”

 

[Jackie Bee]

Interesting piece, but could use some editing/polishing. Nice setting descriptions, but there was bit too much telling instead of showing, and not much about the character that allows to bond with her - who is she, how does she feel, is she scared, that kind of things... to make the reader care about what happens to her.

 

[hardsciencefanagain]

Your criticism is fully justified,because it was the descriptions and the way they sounded(and what emotive effect(if any)they had) I was interested in.
I more or less deliberately made character secondary.Personally I think it's very hard to make readers care about your character in a few sentences.
I essentially totally bypassed that effort.
before I Forget: Thanks for the feedback.I need a lot of it.

 

[Jackie Bee]

Your criticism is fully justified,because it was the descriptions and the way they sounded(and what emotive effect(if any)they had) I was interested in.
I more or less deliberately made character secondary.Personally I think it's very hard to make readers care about your character in a few sentences.
I essentially totally bypassed that effort.
before I Forget: Thanks for the feedback.I need a lot of it.

The question is if you write for fun or you want to sell it. From what I learned about editors, engagement with a character is a must-have. If they don't care, they stop reading... Unless something really unusual is happening, but meeting a scary creature in a dark forest has been done a few times before

 

[Droflet]

Okay, Ben, let's see. It's overwritten. The character, as Jackie pointed out, is unengaging. You CAN describe her effectively with one small sentence. You CAN describe how she feels with little snippets. You have over-described sections that need to be trimmed down.
Apart from that it's an interesting piece with some potential. Next time, try double spacing. It helps. I'll put in my usual caveat. This is only my view, so feel free to take what works for you and disregard the rest. Good luck with the rewrite.

 

[BrisGirl]

Hi, I have some comments on the way you describe the setting here, in particular when it comes to describing the weather conditions. Those descriptions seem to be a bit contradictory.

rapidly losing all colour in that short period after twilight - you tell us that the forest has just had a lot of colour. I my mind, I can't help but see the end of a sunset - how else is a "dense" forest supposed to have had colour? There's no way you're describing the end of a grey, rainy day, right?

The wind made the treetops sway,dropping rainwater. - but, wait, here in the next sentence you tell us that the treetops contain rainwater. Where did that rainwater come from?

she heard the rustle of small creatures moving about in the underbrush - these are the kinds of sounds that you only tend to notice if it's otherwise pretty quiet, so I'm now picturing a scenario where there's no pounding rain or strong winds.

The wind slapped at her cap and it flew away - but, wait, here in the next sentence you're saying that the wind is strong enough to blow a cap off someone's head.

Individually, those phrases may sound beautiful and alluring. Unfortunately, though, that's going to be of no use to the reader if they don't paint a coherent picture.

 

[AnyaKimlin]

piece
Wynna needed to go through the woods to get home quickly again.
She would have liked to take another route, but the way through the woods was the shortest.

Both these sentences say the same thing with no good reason for them being repetitive.

She used a muddy wagon trail abandoned a long time ago that provided some form of footing,but not much.
Wynna was thankful the moon would be coming up shortly, otherwise she barely would have been able to see.
She almost slipped in the mud,and slowed down her pace.
Branches were tortured and broken by the wind.They groaned a chorus of woody misery.
There were roots everywhere,lying in wait to trip the unwary traveller.

Can she see the branches?
Would the moon be of much use in the woods? It isn't here.
And by this point I'm thinking - OK she's in the woods. Who or what is she and why is she there? I know she's slipping in the mud but why? Where is home and where is she coming from? Also you begin lot of sentences with pronouns. With a piece full of description and wonder the flow of the words is particularly important and varying the sentences is one painting by numbers way of doing that.

Owls' and crows' wings sounded, and she heard the rustle of small creatures moving about in the underbrush.
The wind slapped at her cap and it flew away like a dark embroidered helplessly flapping bird.
She was in no mind to go after it.
Clouds opened up,and a silver lance speared the darkness.At last she could see a bit.
She felt for her amulet,stroked its inscriptions and carvings.She mumbled an icantation:”Tribemother, shield your child from harm with your loving allseeing vigilance.”
She stopped walking.

What harm? Crows and owls? Does she walk this way often? Was there a reason for her to be worried?

A pale creature had appeared in front of her, an evanescent wisp of moonlight, more the ancient remembrance of a bygone being than an actual one. She didn't dare go on,now.
A soundless voice entered her mind,unbidden.Wynna felt as if a piece of bread was being stolen out of her mouth after having fasted for days.An unheard -of demoniacal misdeed, the hideously violent robbery of what was hers and hers only.
“What brings a mere mortal to my domain?”

What is it? Does Wynna know? If she doesn't she doesn't see scared enough.

Wynna's mindvoice retorted.“And what make you think you can enter my mind like some kind of tribemother?”
“Be still, child of blood and soil.Your being here is dishonorable.”
“I meant no harm.The way through the woods saves time.I have food to bring back to my
family.Some of it might spoil.”
“Forgive me my act then.We Ythia have lost knowledge of the ways of the flesh, its impatience and its needs.We are like the dust that tells of the passing of ages. ”
In front of Wynna , moss, mouldy pieces of bark, rotting leaves,tiny creatures and twigs rose from the ground. A veritable creature of decay now stood before Wynna: eyeless, mouthless,with skeletal branches for limbs, a deer's ribcage for a body. The head- like lump on top was moving and fluttering in the wind: a mass of tiny slithery crawling creatures, bits of bone and putrid forest floor litter. Small parts of it were being torn off by the wind.
The Ythian now spoke with a rustling husky voice, emanating from a dead crow's beak.
“However, some form of penalty for your sacrilegious trespassing needs to be exacted.”
Wynna tried to move and for some reason couldn't.

Was there no legends concerning the woods? She means no harm but she exacts a penalty? Do they not exact penalties from all who pass through?

The crow's beak was now a hand's breadth away from her face, right in front of her eyes.
An incredibly foul stench assaulted Wynna's nostrils.She wanted to gasp,but her lungs and throat failed her. And although it was cold, perspiration glistened on her forehead.
The susurrating toneless voice whispered.
“My,my child,you have beautiful eyes.I suggest some sort of trade.”

And?

 

[tinkerdan]

There are some interesting descriptions in this and at best together they are almost like a stream of consciousness; but one from someone who might be a bit off kilter.

I would have to say that your words have no emotive effect at all.

Your criticism is fully justified,because it was the descriptions and the way they sounded(and what emotive effect(if any)they had) I was interested in.
I more or less deliberately made character secondary.Personally I think it's very hard to make readers care about your character in a few sentences.
I essentially totally bypassed that effort.
before I Forget: Thanks for the feedback.I need a lot of it.

They should, but they are thrust against a backdrop of characters that are devoid of any depth and so they fall on deaf ears in a manner of speaking. You rely heavily on those words to emote a reader who in turn relies on the characters to bring those emotions to life to an extent that they can relate to the character through those emotions and better understand how each event builds to some suspenseful final event; but you have chosen to divorce the character from the emotives and thus leave the reader rather dead to any affect the piece might have on them.

The piece is colorful and full of conflicting events and has only a small tug of interest as such because there is no realization of any great conflict or even action to draw the reader into the story.

But that's just me; if you don't care about the characters why should I care about the story or the fact that there isn't much story there at all.