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Wild Wordsmith

The wordsmith, the critic, and the... chimerical?

By Monique StarPublished 5 years ago 7 min read
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The class was given a special assignment for the finals: They were supposed to write a piece in any constructive style about how nature and nurture effect someone, and what determines who they are. As it was the final assignment for the class before the actual week for finals, a few students were able to sign up to have their pieces be read out loud by the teacher. Roman took the opportunity and signed his name in the first open slot. He ran off before he could see who else would sign up since he had the assignment on his mind.

When Roman got home, he started to type as much as he could:

"The coalition of male lions marched around searching for their new home all while dodging those they sensed would bring harm to them. At the sound of a blast, they quickly ran off from the two-legged silhouettes that quickened their pace as they saw them. The combined pressure from the running formed a cloud of dust that effected the sight of everyone rather than the other senses of the lions. The storm of soil eventually passed and the lions noticed that, as well as lacerations on themselves, it was easier to notice the corpses of their attackers.

Amongst the blood and fresh meat caused by the brutal and careless attacks, there was an odd sight: a little furless body was attached to the back of one of the attackers. The little body wasn't dead, but wasn't necessarily awake, either. Blood stained the poor body's back and, after a lick, no marks were revealed to be buried. The lion who licked the blood ripped the material that connected the body to the back of one of the attackers without piercing either body. It belonged to no living pride, so said lion placed the little body on his back as the coalition kept moving to seek another pride..."

Roman shook his hands and looked over his piece, and couldn't help but think of the reason he was putting extra effort in the fancy language and research; Logan Atlas always focused more on Roman's works being chimerical rather than the creativity and the effort he put into his assignments. He wanted to put an end to it before the end of the year. As much as he appreciated the potential the teacher saw in him, it would be more satisfying if Logan didn't treat what was produced by Roman like it was created by a four year old. At times, when he was done with his other assignments, he spent his time on this particular one to the point where his eyes were hurting and he had to stretch out his fingers over and over again just to keep them warmed up.

The due date of his assignment had finally arrived, and Roman simultaneously felt proud and nervous when he entered the class. Like some of the other students, he placed his assignment on Mr. Sanders's desk and went to his seat. After the class was filled and Roman felt smug when looking at Logan, Mr. Sanders grabbed Roman's piece and settled the class down before reading. Roman felt proud as he heard his words in someone else's voice: everything from the boy growing up to hunt and protect others, being initially judged by the pride, but eventually respected for having a darker "mane," his moments of roaring and fighting off any challengers in an attempt to compensate for the fact that he felt alone.

"The lion-man roamed around for a long while. He didn't know if it was to look for a fight, help the lionesses or to seek another pride. He was only certain that he had to get away for at least a while. He could sense a presence nearby that was oddly strange and somewhat familiar. He snuck through the grass trying not to breathe too loudly and was ready to pounce at a potential threat. However, when he spotted the source of the presence, he only gazed in awe.

What he saw looked like the other gun-wielders, but no weapon was in sight. Instead, this creature had a similar hat, but bits of a limpid surface over his eyes as well as a little box and small stick in his hands. The creature was moving the stick every now and then and pulled it out from behind the little box. The lion-man growled deeply, but he was rather curious about the creature. He slowly approached the creature, who only looked up with minute reactions due to some noise made.

The creature, eventually, saw the lion-man crawl out of the grass and was surprised at the sight. He decided against making sudden movements since he didn't want to risk the lion-man getting away. He noticed that the lion-man lacked any clothing, but he gained plenty of muscle and more hair than the average human male after who knows how long. The creature carefully moved his hand towards the lion-man's 'mane' and the lion-man placed his hand over the creature's as a reaction..."

"Umm, Mr. Sanders, wouldn't this pretty much be Tarzan, but with lions instead?" Logan asked after raising his hand.

"Well, putting it that way would be oversimplifying it quite a bit, Logan," Mr. Sanders responded.

"I suppose it would probably be as chimerical as the original tale, then," the nerd guessed.

Roman felt his world shatter and felt thankful that he was sitting in the back of the classroom. As Mr. Sanders responded with something Roman wasn't really paying attention to, the disappointed thespian walked out of the classroom with his backpack and pulled a book out from it in order to study for another final. He didn't care that the book consisted of a lot of dry text. He could be having as much trouble as portrayed in the Simpsons episode "Bart Gets an F" and he wouldn't care.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the day, and Roman was still focused on his book. Out the corner of his eye, he saw a denim leg right by him.

"You aced that assignment, you know. He really enjoyed how engaged he was in the story," a familiar voice told Roman.

Roman knew whom the voice belonged to, so he didn't feel like responding. He felt a pressure across part of his leg and heard a sigh next to him.

"Okay, maybe I overdo it when it comes to the harsh criticisms. Well, forget 'maybe,' Mr. Sanders took notice and waited till now to tell me because he supposedly gave me the benefit of the doubt," Logan told the thespian.

"You like Big Hero 6 and Doctor Who, right? Why don't you go complain about they have their chimerical moments every now and then?" Roman muttered in reference to a discussion he overheard before class the other day.

"Alright, alright, I get it. It's just a force of habit. I want things to make sense, so I'm not always..." he pulls out a card, "'in the loop' when it comes to using imagination. In all honesty, even though your pieces aren't always realistic, I really enjoy what you can come up with."

Roman set his book down and looked at Logan.

"If it makes you feel better, you were kind of the reason I put more research into my work and why the more civilized man of the pair sounded a little like you," Roman told him.

Logan blushed, but he didn't move.

"Well, would you like to explain the ending for a bit before we leave? I mean, we all heard it, but I'd like to hear from the wordsmith himself," the nerd encouraged.

Roman felt proud of himself again and spent some time walking and talking with Logan.

"While the stick-and-box-wielding man was off educating the South African children, the lion-man helped the tourists and residents provide a peek into the perspective of lions and the struggles they face thanks to the interference of gun-wielders. Every once in a while, his instincts he was raised with would reveal themselves, but he would remember what the stick-wielder taught him.

Whenever the sun would blanket itself by the horizon, the lion-man would lie against his educating mate protectively before sneaking out of their den. He would alternate between traveling on fours and on twos as he watched his former family from a distance. One lion would look at him and he'd stare back, not a sign of dominance, but as a sign of gratitude. Maybe the lions nor his mate didn't teach him everything about who he is, but they did construct the paths for him to reach it."

fan fiction
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About the Creator

Monique Star

I'm not the most sophisticated adult out there. I'm also not the best at communicating all the time, but I do try my best to get my thoughts out there into the world verbally or nonverbally.

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