3rd Person Narration Example Mga Nobela at Kwento

I whistled before zooming away to my brother’s rescue. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Third Person POV

THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW Natalie stormed out of Reid’s apartment without looking back. Her heels clicked sharply against the polished hallway floor, a rhythm full of anger, humiliation, and something darker. The elevator was too slow. She didn’t wait for it. She climbed the stairs to the 3rd floor, breathing hard, fury simmering behind her ribs. Same building. Same walls. Just three floors above him. It made everything worse. She opened her apartment door with a sharp twist and slammed it shut behind her, leaning back against it for a moment as her breath trembled.

Third Person's POV Kamila stood with her friends, Sarah and Zoë, on the wide, weathered deck of the pack house, savoring the crisp evening air. The trio had been busy preparing for the upcoming harvest festival, laughing and recounting tales of past pack celebrations. However, their joyful conversation abruptly ended when the sharp wail of an alarm sliced through the calm of the evening. The harsh sound was unmistakable—an intruder alarm.

Third Person’s Narrative; Eliza and Aurora were knee-deep in the chaos of the palace garden. The early afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the sprawling lawn, highlighting the delicate beauty of the roses and the tangled mess of the bushes that needed pruning. Eliza used her shears with practiced ease, cutting away at the unruly branches while Aurora, next to her, struggled with the same task.

Chapter#19: You found it weird, don't you? [3rd Person's P.O.V.] ꧁❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎꧂

Dad did not know the vent had been broken for years. I wanted to tell him, but as soon as I opened my mouth, a clump of bloody foam choked me. My temples throbbed. My brain began to starve for air. I opened my mouth like a fish thrown onto dry land, desperately trying to breathe. To get air, I clawed at my own throat. My nails dug into my skin, leaving deep red marks. In the end, my face swelled purple, and my awareness faded. ... At dawn, Megan ran over with tear tracks still on her face.