Snowball X Grassy の小説・ストーリー

Fresh adrenaline courses through my veins, my teeth on edge. We try to sneak up on Xavier and his lieutenants, but the blanket of snow on the ground makes it difficult to blend into our surroundings and they spot our advance when we start closing in. They all leap to their feet, on the defensive, while we fan out to take them on. I zero in the large silver wolf positioned closest to me and spring in his direction, snarling and snapping my jaws.

Frost on the grass sparkles pink and orange, lighting up in cracks and corners as if stars have fallen and gotten stuck on the ground. There’s a smell—the wild, electric scent of pine needles after snowmelt, the promise of new earth turned by paws and boots, and something sweet, almost like bread just out of the oven. Breath steams in the air, catching the sun’s first low rays, every exhale a blessing.

Very quickly, they lifted the huge trophy over their heads and cheered joyously… The moment they lifted the trophy, a golden shower of shiny glitter rained down on the stage. Suddenly, the golden glimmers expanded across the entire stage, engulfing everyone within. It was a magnificent sight. After everyone held the trophy up for a while, Xyla and the others put it down together. Immediately after that, Snowy walked closer to Team XS. Snowy wore a white, silk, traditional dress with her hair pulled into a simple bun. She had youthful-looking airy bangs and intricate make-up on. Snowy was extremely beautiful… However, when Xyla stood next to her, Snowy suddenly paled in comparison…

First snow this year. She accepted no objections and took them all for a walk, even the disheveled and gloomy Tom. They did not dare to go with the bully Rosvo to the dog playground, they went to the river bank, completely deserted at this time of the year. There was little snow, but enough to cover the heather and gorse bushes before it started to melt. The river flowed slowly in a dark gray ribbon and the clouds covered almost the entire sky, and in rare gaps it was pale blue. Rosvo rushed through the bushes, leaving his "daisies" on the white snow sheet and raising his paw at every more or less decent blade of grass. Tom pulled the hood of his jacket down, shoved his hands into his pocket

The sphere stopped in his tracks for but a millisecond before it started pushing back the spiral towards the retreating father and son. It was obvious who had won in that confrontation. Xasha's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth started bleeding. He gnashed his teeth, outstretched both his hands and push against the air with all his might. His fierce war cry echoed throughout the battlefield as he pushed even harder, slowing the sphere's speed slightly.

Chapter 7: Anestra and Sable Cory saw a patch of green grass in the distance. There was still darkness behind her. She felt as though she were swimming out of a deep ocean of shadows and into a shimmering sea of green. The golden aura had returned to guide her forwards. It pushed her right into the scene. She found herself sitting quite comfortably in the grass. The blades of grass were wet and streaked with melting snow. The snowy Everdream night had come to an end. It had been replaced by a marvellous summer day.

a sympathetic brother uttered. The men were near the burnt palace premises now, following Jonah behind. There was the sound of someone coming through a partially charred door. It was kept ajar. A young man strode out from it. He stood a few yards away from the men. He was difficult to identify; for his face was partly covered in blood. When he came close, the men cringed in fright, for he wore a skirt of bearskin like theirs. From his belly to his head was bare save for the blood that covered his face, and he had in his right hand, a glittering sword, which he held upward, keeping its sharpest tip above his head. With his left hand, he held a man’s head which had been cut off from the body.

Alive. Grass—emerald green and glistening with morning dew—cushioned his step. The frost beneath his feet hissed and retreated like a living thing in pain, steam rising in delicate spirals. Around him, the skeletal hedges groaned, a sound like ship masts in a storm. Branches thickened before his eyes, bark smoothing from gray to rich brown. Buds swelled and burst in fast-forward blooms.

The scent of sugar and vanilla carried through the air, mixing with the mountain breeze. Everywhere I looked, there was movement… life. The packs’ banners were already up in their designated areas, each distinct yet unified: silver for the Snow Claws, emerald for the Verdant Fang, cobalt for the Sapphire Ridge, Fire for the Thunders and so on. The stadium floor, once an arena of strength, now glowed with strings of enchanted orbs floating midair, soft light spilling like mist over the marble. “Do you remember,” Frynn murmured as he looked around, “the day we fought here? How small it felt back then?”

He nodded, throwing a pair of twos into the pile, to which I responded with a +2 of the same color. "Not interested." Seeing this, he casually tossed another +4 onto the pile. Thankfully, I had one last +4 left, so I managed to follow up. "What kind of girl do you like? I'll keep an eye out for you!" He nodded, then proceeded to throw another +4 onto the pile. How was I supposed to play like this?! I quickly surrendered, throwing my hand onto the pile and curling up on the sofa, scowling at him. "Well, no girl's ever going to like you with that attitude!"