So, like, would y’all wanna see my book?? I’m planning on publishing it /someday/ but I want to put it on Scratch Tried a few different ways a few different times and I’ve decided on maybe an audiobook …but I’d need voice actors… I’d be the main narrator, and each character would have a voice actor The prologue doesn’t have any dialogue so might just post that to see if y’all are interested It’d be a bit of a long term commitment, so just make sure you’re okay with that Extra points if you can figure out what song I deep fried :D
Book 1 prologue, 1000 years before the events of chapter 1!!! The wind was hot and dry, an unwelcome temperature that just made the fierce heat from the sun even stronger. Viper's paws hurt from the dry, cracked ground, which was the perfect cesspit for the infuriated rays of light to gather. Small scorpions and a strange, spiky lizard dove into the limited shadows when they saw Viper coming. The last logical scrap of his brain knew that, of course, it was simply because he was a wolf, but he convinced himself it was because they knew who he was. Viper slowly ascended the steep plateau, keeping his eyes on where his paws were to avoid stepping on anything loose, and the sun. He wished it were the much cooler, much more pleasant, much fuller night, but he couldn't risk being seen. Not for this. The angry lasers the sun was exploding everywhere did make it easier for him to see the cactus-colored highlands in the distance, however. How strange it was that the packs who'd stayed up there instead of going down into the main, dryer desert had mysteriously died or disappeared... if only they'd listened to Viper when he gave them that prophecy. What a shame. Speaking of prophecies, what Viper came here to do. The breeze picked up as Viper's hackles began to rise. His eyes began to glow as his mouth opened. As he spoke, words began to chisel themselves into the dry, rocky earth. "The land will wither for a thousand years, until the sky turns the color of wolf tears a wolf with fur blue, will bring the rain uproot all that was thought to be true, and end all pain turn the lake into a sea, They say the charm is chances three." Viper's hackles flattened against his back, and his eyes softened to their normal deep sand color, the glow fading. He shook himself off. Satisfaction filled him. All Viper had to do now was wait. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He whipped his gaze over to it, and found out it was a small scorpion with an unusually large stinger and disproportionately tiny pincers. Viper snarled at it, and it raised its pincers and tail in an arc above its back. Viper let out an aggressive chuff at the scorpion, but it didn’t back up. Instead, it approached him. Viper didn’t care. The tiny arachnid, venom or not, had nothing on the great prophet. Viper held his head high, his hackles bristling, ready for anything.
