Tribes

[close] {Are we orange with black stripes or black with orange stripes? Should it matter? Maybe if we were neither...Oh, but how would that be possible? We don't know what to think...maybe we're neither...maybe we're not tigers at all.} So...my description was to long, so please go to the {Description} topic before doing anything else here at this group! Thanks!

[close] Walking With L.A. is the official Goodreads group for those who wish to get up close and in the know with Author L.A. Richards.

[close] The year is 1200's... no houses, roads, so basically no real civilization. You are a "tribe". You will stay with the tribe until they either blanish you for your' deeds, or you diecide to leave as a loner. Doinate other tribes, or make allies. rise up to be the "alpha or Chief". If you deicde to find a soul mate, you can start a new tribe and/or have children * made it sound like woves huh? nope HUMANS*

[close] Not one speck of white disorients the remarkably pale, blue, sky. It is clear that today, is a beautiful day. Be it reading your book, using your electronic device, sleeping on the stranger's shoulder next to you or whatever it may be, you are in a zone of comfort. Just like the pilot has promised you, the trip would be a smooth and easy one. After all, what airplane has crumbled down to the earth on a day like this? All of you are well on their way to the remote island of Hawaii; the excitement buzzes through your blood in a pleasing manner, making you wish you could just land already. And there it is. The beautiful island of Hawaii. Maybe you are one of the lucky ones and have a window seat, giving you easy access to the beautiful view. Or maybe you are one of the annoying passengers that strain their necks to be able to marvel at the beauty of it all. It's been fifteen minutes, now. No sign indicating that seat-belts must be securely strapped have turned on. The airplane still hasn't lost any altitude. A few of you begin to worry. Worry about what? You don't know, which is why the fear begins to pool within the depths of your stomach; call it a gut instinct, but you know something is wrong. Suddenly, you begin to feel the turbulence; not the ones indicating the loss of altitude. Those seated on the right have had the unlucky chance of watching in utter horror as the wing tears off menacingly. It travels backwards and hits the side of the plane, causing a major breakage in tail. That fear that you were feeling just a few seconds ago? It's real. The screams pierce through in your ears, paralysing any clear thoughts. Down. Down. Down. The oxygen masks do not work, you realise that this was the first plane ride where the explanation of emergencies were not presented before take-off. Just as you are about to crash, a static covered voice breaks through the intercom. A deep chuckle is heard before the words ring in your ears, "Welcome to Coomarock." And everything goes black.