Korra Drawing Novels & Stories

"I do not feel like I did well. I feel like I am holding onto something that keeps trying to slip away." He pulled her close. "Then hold on. I am here. I will always be here." She nodded against his chest. But in her heart, the question lingered: Hold on to what? And for how long? ------ In the garden, Corin sat with Kieran and Leo. Kieran was drawing in the dirt with a stick, his small face serious with concentration. Leo watched him with quiet curiosity. Corin watched them both. "What are you drawing?" Leo asked. Kieran looked up. "A wolf. See?" He pointed to the lines in the dirt. "That is the head. That is the body. Those are the legs."

Vardan hadn't just bitten him, he had planted a claim that burned through his nerves. Sora grabbed a blank canvas from the wall. He needed a distraction. He sat on a high wooden stool, dipping a broad brush into pitch-black paint and slashing it across the surface. The lines were jagged, sharp, and aggressive. But when he closed his eyes, those burning gold pupils in the darkness of the bar haunted him. Unconsciously, his fingers reached for the ochre paint. He traced a sharp circle resembling a predator’s eye in the center of his dark mess.

Korra followed, her eyes searching the room. I reached the desk and began rifling through the drawers. Nothing but paperwork and office supplies. Korra's presence was a constant distraction, though I tried to focus. “There has to be something here dammit.” I muttered, pulling out drawer after drawer, only to be met with disappointment. Korra walked towards the bookshelf, running her fingers along the line of books. She was probably searching for any signs of a hidden compartment. “There’s nothing.” she muttered, frustration evident in her voice.

And there, among them, stood Korra. Her sleeves were rolled up, flour streaking her cheeks and the curve of her jaw. Her hair, half-tied and half-loose, caught the sunlight that streamed through the high windows. She was frowning in concentration as she tried to knead dough, her movements clumsy and stiff, yet there was something painfully alive about her, something that hadn’t been there before. He stopped in the doorway. For a moment, he could only look.

Something older. She looked at the girl, who was now drawing quietly with a piece of charcoal on a flat stone. At first, she drew trees and stars. But soon, her hand changed direction. She drew a circle — the same one from outside. Liora froze. “Where did you see that?” The girl blinked. “I don’t know. It just came into my head.” Jonathan laughed. “Looks cool! Like magic!” Liora’s voice was sharp. “Don’t touch it.”

Leo turned his drawing board to reveal a drawing of a calm lake. Daniela and the remaining three applauded him. Rocco showed his drawing next, which was a messy combination of red and black. They still applauded him. Alessio turned his drawing board. His drew a picture of four small boys running in a field. He was applauded. Killian turned to Matteo, the ring leader. “Your turn.” Matteo smiled and turned his drawing board. Killian rolled his eyes. As expected. Matteo drew a picture of a woman in a wedding dress, holding hands with four small boys in suits, and beside them was a stick figure of a man who looked like no effort was put into drawing him.

Ever since the ritual, her bond with the Alphas felt like a flickering candle, while her memory of Lucien’s cold blood and the Shadow’s touch felt like a roaring furnace. "What did you do to me?" Rhea demanded. "It’s not what I did, but what I’m about to do," Kora whispered. She raised a hand, a small, carved bone whistle between her fingers. She didn't blow it. She snapped it in half. A cloud of purple smoke erupted from the bone, swathing Rhea in a cloying, sweet scent. Rhea tried to hold her breath, but the smoke moved as if it were alive, forcing its way into her lungs.

Though Alpha Valor was 1000 years old, he looked in his early 30s. None of them looked their age. His mother, Luna Emmaline, looked in her 20s, the second leader of his family's small pack. She has blonde hair. The greenest eyes I'd seen. She's also tall but not as tall as the male and has a voluptuous body. All the she-wolves seem to have a curvy body, a large bust, and the ideal buttock size, which makes me wonder why Connor chose an uncurvy and ordinary-looking human girl like me.

No wonder Killian couldn’t look me in the eye this morning. I reach for the sketch pad Elara left by the nightstand. My fingers tremble, but I grip the pencil like it’s my lifeline. I don’t even think, I just draw. Symbols. Circles. Eyes with fire spilling from them. A wolf with a shattered spine. A crown that burns. A clock with no hands. My hand stops only when I notice the paper trembling beneath my touch. Not from me. From the floor. A low vibration hums through the wood. Like a warning.

My face twisted in horror from the bitter taste. “You could have at least warned me I was about to take bile mixed with Hyena's blood! Gosh,” I exclaimed, brushing my tongue with a towel beside me. Korra laughed at my sense of humor. “You sure indeed are a comedian,” she chuckled. “Come over here,” she said, standing over a box, blowing off dust from it. I walked over to her, sensing some strange energy coming out of the box. “What is in there? I sense it. It feels like something strong and powerful?” My heart raced as I drew closer.