TBT's Winter Short Story Contest - Voting

[Chris]

Welcome to the public voting thread for TBT's Winter Short Story Contest. In this contest, users submitted winter and/or Animal Crossing themed short stories between 500-2000 words in length. The staff have narrowed down the entries to a top six, and now we need your help to decide on who places in the top three.

How do I vote?

• Please vote for your favourite entry in the poll above.
• You may only vote for one entry and you may not change your vote.
• You may vote for yourself.
• Please select the entry you genuinely feel is the best rather than voting for your friends.
• If you are unable to vote, this is due to restrictions against certain accounts to help us decrease voting abuse. We will not be disclosing the criteria used to determine whether an account is eligible or ineligible to vote.

How were these entries selected?
All 107 accepted entries were reviewed by Mairmalade and Vrisnem. Both created a shortlist of entries they felt deserved further consideration. There were fourteen matches between their lists. Those fourteen short stories were then presented to the rest of the staff team where each person was asked to nominate the five entries they felt were best executed. Five staff members participated in the nomination phase and all entries that received at least two nominations made it through to the public voting phase. The order the entries have been presented in has been randomised and is not an indicator of how many votes they received during the internal voting phase.

The Finalists

1. The Snowboy
2. The Ice Maiden
3. Sincerely Yours, Chevre
4. A Pigeon and a Dog
5. I'm Glad We Met
6. The Starkeeper's Friendship

 

[Chris]

*KICK*



Something thudded into the snowball, waking it from, well not really dreams, but perhaps remembering what it was like to float around as many glittering snowflakes. It rolled forward a little.



*KICK*



Again, that thud and roll. It didn’t hurt, but the snowball was a little annoyed. Who was doing this, and why were they picking on it?



After a few more thuds, it began rolling smoothly, steadily pushed. Each turn added more snow to its size. It heard a voice from nearby, “That’s good. Now to make the body.”



Things got quiet for a bit, but soon the snowball heard crunching snow and the voice again, humming a little tune.



“Just a little more… that’s it. Now, get the head up on there.” Another push from behind, and the snowball gave a little hop up into the air. As it came down, something amazing happened. It merged with the larger snowball and suddenly…



“You did it! Perfect Snowboy, at your service!” Snowboy? Was that his name? And how could he suddenly talk, see, and hear? “I have a special item to give you – a large snowflake. You’ll need it for crafting.”



The snowboy didn’t know what he was saying, but somehow, he produced a large snowflake and handed it to the… what was that in front of him? His creator? Such a strange little creature.



The creature took the snowflake with a smile and ran off, busy with other projects. The snowboy tried to follow, but found it could no longer roll.



“You can’t follow her. But we’ll keep you company.”



Looking around, the snowboy saw several others like him, in various stages of melting. They each greeted him, explaining a bit of what had happened.



For the rest of that day, the snowboy watched as his creator rushed about, catching fish and bugs, and also beautiful snowflakes. He saw some of the items made from them, glittering ice sculptures in all different colors. He was proud to know that he had helped make some of them possible.



There were other creatures moving about. These were different, but he couldn’t quite place it. Asking the oldest (and most melted) snowboy, he learned the difference.



“They are animals. There are many living here, and several more who visit each day. They are nice, and won’t do you any harm. They are friends of the one who made us.”



“But why is she different?”



“She is a human. The only one who lives here, although friends like her come once in a while to visit. It doesn’t seem to matter, as they all get along nicely.”



This was true. And as night fell and the stars dotted the sky, the snowboy was happy that he had been made here.



The next morning, the oldest snowboy had vanished, melting back into the world. He saw that he had begun to melt, as well. The human came running over, kicking a small snowball, and then rolling it into a larger one. Repeating the process, he watched as she made a new snowboy. After talking to all of them (and getting more snowflakes), she ran off to take care of things in other areas. The snowboy was happy to see a new friend, but he missed the old one, until he heard soft chuckling.



“Miss me, did you?”



Taking a good look, he saw that it was indeed the oldest snowboy, remade.



“There are actually four of us, and we get rolled up again after we melt. Most of us remember, but you might have been kicked up against a tree when she was trying to make you. That always messes with the memories.”



This second day, the snowboy had much to think about. He tried, but he could not remember being here before. All he knew was that first time his little snowball had been kicked, to start it growing. It didn’t matter, because there was so much to see now. He didn’t want to miss a thing.



Later in the afternoon, a gentle snow began to fall. It was lovely. Puffs of white came from the animals’ mouths as they ran here and there, looking at all the things the human had done to decorate the island. Sometimes they would stop and talk to each other, and the conversations were rather funny. The snowboy had to be cautious not to laugh, since none of the animals realized the snowpeople were aware. He learned some of their names and stored the memories away, hoping he would have them again when he was remade.



The third day brought more melting. It was a strange feeling, but not uncomfortable. Another snowboy had melted overnight and the girl (he had heard one of the animals call her “my girl”) rolled him up again. She was a little off on the size, so this time, there were no snowflakes, but she still talked to him and seemed happy with what she had done. The newly made snowboy sighed as she ran off, but said that it was better than not being made at all.



The day was very stormy, and the wind drove the snow almost sideways. There were more of the glittering snowflakes, and the girl laughed as she caught them in her net. Sometimes, one of the animals would run after a snowflake, tilting their head, looking at the pretty shape until it faded away.



New sounds drifted over from the right, and the snowboy wondered what they could be. He wanted to rock, but was too melted to do anything.



“That is music. There is a special animal who comes to play it. I think he is called a ‘dog’, but we like him because he looks like the snow.” The snowboy didn’t know what that meant, but later, he saw an animal all in white fur walking toward him. The eyes and nose were coal black. Ah, this must be the Music Dog. He knew he shouldn’t talk, but he couldn’t help it.



“Music Dog, thank you for the lovely sounds.”



The dog didn’t seem surprised. His eyes twinkled and he winked at the snowboys. “Anything for the fans. Stay cool.”



With that, he turned and walked back the way he had come. Soon, the music could be heard again.



Night came, the storm subsided, and the snowboy watched the stars.



On the following morning, he had melted so much that only his head remained on a slushy pile. He still smiled and gave the girl a snowflake when she came to see him. She stood looking at him for a little longer and he could see that the smile was a bit sad. He wanted to tell her that he would be back, but before he could try, she turned away to one of the animals who had called her name. It was probably better that way.



It was a quiet day. The girl and animals all seemed to be busy elsewhere, although he saw them running about. He spent most of the day chatting with the other snowboys. The one imperfect one sighed and said he was glad to be melting, and hoped to be made better next time.



The sun set and it grew dark. As the stars came out, the snowboy saw some bright lights streaking across the sky. They were glittered more than the prettiest snowflakes. Turning to his neighbor, the snowboy asked about them, but another voice answered, “They are shooting stars. If you make a wish on one, it can come true.”



A pink owl, wearing a large pink ribbon, stood beside him. She also looked up at the sky. When one of the stars raced across the sky, she closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them, she smiled, “Give it a try. Shooting stars are magical.”



They both saw the girl coming toward them, so the owl winked and held a wing to her beak. She waddled over to the girl and began talking to her about the stars.



Another star appeared, and the snowboy made his wish. He was tired, so decided to doze. Sometime in the night, he felt himself melt away. Then it was quiet.



*KICK*



The snowball moved, slowly growing. Another quickly formed, and then…



“Hello, did you miss me?”

---

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[Chris]

He trudged through the thick snow, sinking up to his knees with every step. On a make-shift sled behind him, he lugged a block of ice as long as he was tall. The sun was just cresting over the treetops, dissipating the light fog that hung in the air.



Reaching his cabin, the only man-made structure for miles, he hoisted the ice block onto its end and set to work with his chisel and hammer. His art consumed him for the entirety of the day. He took no breaks for either food or rest. Finally, by the light of the waxing moon, he stepped back to survey his completed piece.



Before him stood a sculpture of a beautiful woman, soft of expression and graceful in manner. She seemed to glow with an otherworldly light beneath the twinkling stars. He placed a hand on her cold, smooth cheek and looked longingly into her soulless eyes. As the heavens looked on, he made a wish that his loneliness would end, that he would be blessed with a companion to love and cherish.



Sighing, he turned and entered his house, exhausted from the day's exertions.



The following morning, he peeked from his window to gaze once more upon his creation. But it was nowhere to be seen. He rushed outside and, as he approached the location of his sculpture, he stopped in shock. Where his ice maiden had stood, a woman now lay unconscious in the snow.



Her hair was pure white and glistened in the sunrise. Her skin and lips had a pale bluish hue. She seemed small and vulnerable amid the endless snowy landscape.



The man scooped her up and carried her inside. Wrapping her in his thickest blanket, he set her by the hearth and hastily started a fire to warm her. Within moments, her eyelids fluttered open to reveal eyes as bright and clear as the midday sky.



Confusion wrinkled her brow. The man quickly explained how he had found her and that he meant her no harm. The mysterious woman could not remember anything of her past. She knew nothing of how she came to be passed out in the snow. She did not even know her own name.



Brushing aside these concerns, the man fixed her a warm meal and assured her that she was welcome to stay with him as long as was necessary. The road into the nearest town would not be clear until spring so until then he knew of nowhere else for her to go. Thanking him for his kindness, she gratefully accepted his offer.



Over the following days and weeks, the couple found themselves growing closer. They felt comfort in each other's presence, as if they had been together all their lives, as if they belonged together.



During the day, the man worked on his sculptures and the woman was greatly impressed with their realism. His heart swelled with pride each time she expressed her awe and admiration.



At night, they sat in front of the fire, conversing. He withheld nothing from her and, although she could not share any details of her past for she still had no memories prior to the day he found her, she was open and honest regarding her thoughts and feelings.



In the warm glow of the firelight, with their eyes gleaming and their cheeks flushed, it did not take long for the topic of marriage to be broached. Both were eager for such a union to take place. However, they could not make it into town until the first thaw, which was still many weeks away. This did not dampen their spirits, though, as they found so much joy in each other's company that the wait merely heightened the anticipation.



Their lives went on in this manner until spring drew near and the woman began to grow increasingly weak. The day came when she could not even muster the strength to leave the bed. The man tended to her lovingly, providing all the care she could possibly wish for. All the while, he was anxiously watching for the tell-tale signs that winter was coming to a close so he could get her to a doctor.



One day, the man awoke to the sounds of birds chirping outside the window. Looking outside, he was thrilled to see a strong morning sun bearing down on the snow, causing it to melt. By the time he could ready everything for their journey, the remaining slush should be passable.



He rushed to the woman's bedside only to find it empty. In despair, he threw back the covers and discovered they were soaked clean through. Nothing remained of the woman, his love, except a few slivers of ice. Gathering them up in his hands, the man wept.



**********



The chill in the air had grown harsh. That evening, the man pulled his winter bedding from the wardrobe and left the fire going until he was ready to retire. As he sat before the flames, he remembered the woman who had once sat beside him, the woman who had laughed with him, the woman who had loved him. A single tear came to his eye and he did not bother to brush it away.



The next morning, he could see a heavy snowfall through the windowpanes. Pulling on his coat and boots, he opened the door to grab some firewood from the porch but froze in surprise. Standing there in the snow, beaming at him blissfully, was the woman. She had returned to him.



Overjoyed, he ran to her and drew her into his embrace. Clutching her tightly and gazing into her luminous eyes, he vowed to take pleasure in every moment that they were granted, this winter and in all the winters to come.

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[Chris]

Most goats wouldn’t be looking to re-locate during the winter, but I come from a family of mountain goats and we can withstand a bit of cold. Plus, I’ve got my favourite red poncho coat to keep me warm. With all my belongings packed neatly away in boxes, I headed over to the local diner to get one last milkshake before I leave.



“Tomorrow’s the big day, isn’t it kidders?” This diner just happens to be owned by my best friend Pashmina, who slid a tall glass across the counter towards me. At this point, she always knew what I was in the mood for and no longer needed to take my order. I took a sip and tasted nostalgia. Classic vanilla, the perfect choice for my last day. Pashmina's secret ingredient? Sweetened with honey from Ellinea's local lavender farm, so it had a nice aroma.



“That’s right, tomorrow’s the day I bid farewell to Ellinea.” It still feels surreal saying it out loud, but I had been craving a change in scenery for a while and knew it was time to make the leap. Still, I would miss this quiet town with its sleepy atmosphere. It has been a good home to me for a long time.



“I really envy you, Chevre. Not everyone would be able to pick up and move just like that.”



“What can I say? I love a good adventure, especially a spontaneous one!”



We chatted late into the evening, until Pashmina had to close up shop for the night. I took one last look around, trying to memorize the decor inside this little red diner where I spent so much of my time. I pulled out my bells, but Pashmina waved them away.



“Don’t be silly. This one’s on the house, kidders.”



I smiled, and gave her a parting hug. I was really going to miss the way she called me kidders.



“I’ll send you a letter as soon as I’ve settled in.” I promised.



“Now you’ll have two penpals!” She said, squeezing me back.



She was talking about Nan, of course, who I had been writing to since I was in grade school. It was for a class assignment, but we continued to write to each other even as we grew older. Now it was like we’ve known each other our entire lives, even though we’ve never met. And since we’ve been able to maintain our friendship all this time, I felt confident that Pashmina and I would never fall out of touch as long as we wrote to each other.



The moon was high as I stepped out into the crisp winter air. It smelled of lavender, as it always did on Ellinea. The snow crunched beneath my hooves as I walked home for the last time. Tomorrow would be the start of my new life on a new island.



~~~~~



As I stepped off the plane, I was greeted by the warm sun and lush greenery. This island must be really far away from home, as it was summer here. The breeze carried the scent of citrus and I remembered that this island was well known for its large fruit orchard. On the ground sprouted breeds of flowers I had never seen before. The colors were vibrant and the island felt alive with energy.



This is so refreshing, it’s just what I needed!



I wanted to go out and explore right away, but I had to unpack my things first. I followed a dirt path until I reached my new house, tucked away in a secluded area of the forest. More wildflowers spotted the front lawn. It was the perfect location, and I couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction as I gazed at my very own cottage in the woods.



Well, Chevre. You’ve made it. This is home now.



I spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking, until everything was arranged exactly as it was in my old house. It was my familiar little sanctuary on this new island where everything was different. As I hung Nan’s photo in its usual place above my bed, a thought occurred to me.



Maybe I should ask Pashmina to send me her photo too.



I decided I would write to her tomorrow after I check out the town, so that I can tell her all about my new surroundings. As I climbed into bed, exhaustion from the long day suddenly took over and I had no trouble falling asleep.



~~~~~



I woke up early the next morning, unable to contain my excitement for the day ahead. I decided to locate the store in case I later realize I forgot to pack something. This would also give me the opportunity to ask for directions and meet my new neighbors. Maybe I could find a place to have breakfast as well. I set off in the direction of resident services, but along the way found myself distracted by a grove of fruit trees.



This must be the orchard!



I found an opening in the fence and stepped in.



It’s even bigger than I thought it would be!



I wandered aimlessly between the trees, enjoying the morning sun and fresh air. It was so tranquil, the sun peeking through the leaves to warm my face. I was glad I called it an early night yesterday, so that I could experience the orchard before the daytime rush disturbed the calm atmosphere which reminded me so much of Ellinea. I was just thinking of how I would describe this scenery in a letter, when I heard a rustling. Someone was already here, up on a ladder, reaching for peaches and dropping them into a basket. As I came closer, I saw that it was another goat.



Hey, a goat! Maybe we can be friends!



I approached hesitantly, not wanting to startle them.



What are the chances, finding another goat on this island.



I cleared my voice, hoping to make a good first impression.



“Hello, pardon me. My name is Chevre. I just moved here and I was wondering-“



Just then the figure turned around and I saw a familiar face, one I’ve only ever seen in photos. We both blinked at each other a couple of times. Although she was always smiling in the photos she sent, I now saw different emotions pass through her face. Surprise, recognition, then radiant joy. Nan smiled as warm as the sun.



“Hi there, kid.”

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[Chris]

Brewster was a bird of few words, he didn’t warm up to others easily, so much so that many think that he lacks any close friends, speaking to only the coffee beans he brews every morning. Despite how it seems, Brewster does have one very close friend, K.K. Slider. A very strange pair one may say, how did that come about? Brewster remembers that very day as if it was only yesterday...



The quiet pigeon grew up in the coffee business, his parents owned a rather popular coffee shop. Everyday, animals from all the districts of the city came by to have a cup of finely brewed coffee at the pigeon family’s shop. Today was like any other day in the city, Brewster was out running errands for his folks, picking up fresh coffee beans, and another boxful of sugar and cream. On his way back from the farmer’s market the young dove was stopped by the sound of a soothing guitar strum. Brewster was a focus driven bird, never getting caught off guard or distracted when having a goal set, but the acoustic sound was captivating enough to stop mid stride. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick look. He thought to himself as he followed the sound to the bottom steps of the nearest bus stop.

There he found him, sitting on a milk crate, guitar in hand, head to toe in off-white fur and with the biggest eyebrows he’s ever seen. The young pigeon has seen plenty of dogs come into the shop, but never one like this. The tune sounded like nothing he’s ever heard in the city, it’s obvious that this pooch comes from the small villages in the outskirts. The way he’s singing, calming and melodic in the middle of the white noise of city life. It felt like he was taken to a void where it was only him and the musician in front of him, images of the seasons changing right before his eyes. Only once the song was over did the young pigeon snapped back to reality. Brewster was in awe! It was rare to see such passion and talent given to a single craft like this.



“I hoped you enjoyed my little tune, just a lil’ something I came up with on the spot.”



With a start, Brewster started fumbling with the items he was carrying, embarrassed of being caught gawking at the musician. Once the items are stabled in his arms does he clears his throat to comment on what he thinks.



“It was great, soothing and gave the feeling of something nostalgic, I’m not sure why though…”



The dog gave a soft smile and a hum at the response.



“I was hoping it gave off that vibe, y’see, I come from a lil’ village, where the trees are still plentiful. Was thinking of the forests back home.”



“Oh. What brings you all the way out to the city?” Brewster questioned.



“I’m a traveling musician, going where the wind takes me, playing gigs here and there. A free spirit you can say.”



This certainly puzzled the bird. What about his family, his job, his life back home? Before Brewster can ask, the musician, as if knowing what the dove was about to say, continued on.



“There’s more to life than just settling with what you have, life is about taking risks, to chase after dreams rather than chasing one’s own tail, y’know what I mean?”



Brewster definitely does not know exactly what he meant, but he believes he understands what the dog was trying to voice. But to drop everything one ever knows to chase after dreams like that… Brewster can really admire that.



“Say, you’ve got any dreams of your own?” The musician asks out of the blue.



“Oh, uh…” The young pigeon shuffles on his feet for a bit. Setting down his items to think on the question.



“...I suppose I do wish to get out of the city, open up my own coffee place. Small room, dimly lit, soft music and bar seating. Just something with a more calming atmosphere than the shop my parents own right now.”



The musician just gave a nod, took a moment to think and started playing a soft melody. “I can really dig that. It’s good to have your own dreams to strive for. It ain’t good feeling like you’re tied down to the only option set to you by others. I’m sure you’ll achieve that lil’ coffee dream in no time. Nothing shredded, nothing gained.”



That really struck a chord within Brewster, never thought that was ever an option for him! His new friend’s point of view does have merit. Suddenly Brewster was hit with inspiration, plans, and what ifs. Ideas flew to the forefront of his mind, ideas that he can take to achieve the dream he’s been thinking of for so long. Opening his beak to ask for advice from the laid back dog, he was interrupted by the sound of the city hall clock, singing the tune that indicates the start of a new hour. Oh no, they were expecting me to get back half an hour ago, I’m late! The young dove quickly picked up the supplies, gave a quiet thank you and farewell to the musician before running off. It was until he returned to his parents’ shop that he realized he forgot to ask the mysterious canine their name, but never forgot his words.



Years later did he find out, after saving up enough, Brewster was able to open up his own establishment in the basement of the museum a few towns over. Blathers, the owner of the museum, came down to give him a letter addressed to the pigeon. It contained an aircheck, which he later registered as the same melody that the canine played after learning of Brewster’s dream, and a note that read the following...



Hey, it’s been awhile, but a little birdy on the street told me that you finally opened up that shop you dreamt of. Knew you could do it. Mind if I swing by for a cup? -K.K.

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[Chris]

Sprinkle moved in about a month ago. She claimed that it was an impulsive decision and while she never really talked about the home that she’d left behind, I could tell that she was anxious about starting a whole new life. It took a few days for her to begin unpacking (turns out she’s a procrastinator) but seemed at ease once she was no longer encased by emptiness.



She wandered around the island for a week, trying to mesmerize every inch of it. She inspected the signs and chased damselflies around. Sat beneath coconut trees and fished. She was constantly taking pictures, her eyes filled with awe at every new discovery. For a while, I didn’t think it possible for her to like anything more than her dream of becoming famous.



But then she met Whitney.

——

It didn’t take long for Sprinkle to introduce herself and once she had, she took one for the team and decided that she and Whitney were to be best friends. I thought that Whitney would be annoyed but with how much Sprinkle talked, I don’t think she had much time to think, anyway.



Sprinkle apparently has a pet pill bug that she named after herself. She wants to be a figure skater one day. She’s a pisces and turns out, pisces and virgo have great compatibility. Within a week, Whitney could probably write an autobiography about Sprinkle if she wanted to. At first, I thought she was just still nervous about having moved here and was just trying to make a friend but then I saw the look in her eye and suddenly, I understood.

——

The holidays were over and the process of taking down the decorations had begun. While Isabelle did most of the work, by the time she was done, there was broken glass everywhere since she kept dropping the ornaments. At one point, Marina tried to help her out but of course, her tentacles were slippery, the upbeat 11am music replaced by the sound of things breaking.



This didn’t bother Whitney, though. I watched as she did her daily yoga at the plaza, her eyes shut in concentration and her breathing relaxed.



“Whitney!”



Her eyes shot open, a frown on her face from being interrupted. We both turn just in time to see Sprinkle waddling towards us, something green clutched to her chest.



“Oh god.”



Sprinkle stops to stand right in front of her, a wide smile on her face and a gleam in her eye. Clutched in her flippers is a piece of mistletoe.



Whitney raises her eyebrows, “What exactly do you think you’re doing with that?”



Her smile turned mischievous and she stood on her tippy toes so that they were almost the same height, the mistletoe hanging above their heads.



“You know what the rule is.”



With a blank face, Whitney looks up at the mistletoe, analyzing it and for a moment, she looks like she might actually consider the possibility of giving in.



But even when Whitney suddenly grabs it and clunks her on the head with it, Sprinkle never stops smiling.

——

The first few weeks of January brought about a few snowstorms, the temperature cold and the ground icy. One day was particularly cold and even though she was bundled up, Whitney was still visibly shivering.



When Sprinkle notices, she immediately goes home, returning after a bit with a cup. She approaches Whitney and before she can say anything, the cup is being extended towards her.



They stare at each other silently for a moment before Sprinkle explains, “It’s hot chocolate.”



A flicker of surprise washes over her face before she carefully takes the cup into her grasp and while she’d never admit this out loud, she was pleased to see marshmallows swirling around in the chocolatey drink. She goes to take a sip when Sprinkle interrupts, “By the way, I may or may not have forgotten about it after drinking some of it so it might be more like warm chocolate now … I didn’t touch the marshmallows, though!”



Whitney stares at her for a moment before a smile appears on her face. She gestures for Sprinkle to move back a bit, scooping one of the marshmallows out of the cup. Sprinkle obliges with a puzzled look on her face but by the time she understood what was happening, the marshmallow had already bounced off her beak and landed on the ground.



Her cheeks flush with embarrassment but when Whitney begins to giggle, she can’t help the overwhelming fondness that she feels for the beauty in front of her, understanding that she’d do anything to hear that laugh for the rest of her life.

——

Three days later, Sprinkle was feeling under the weather. Even though she was positive it was just a mild cold, Whitney still worried, taking it upon herself to nurse Sprinkle back to health. She brought over medicine and made soup. Sprinkle protested but she couldn’t deny the warmth that she felt from being cared for.



Once the soup was devoured and the dishes were done, the teasing began. “You’re a penguin. How on earth did you catch a cold?”



Sprinkle’s laugh triggers a cough and so she settles for shrugging her shoulder instead, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just special.”



She turned away so that she couldn’t see her smile, “You definitely are.” she thought.

——

Once she felt better, Sprinkle discovered that she really enjoyed running around on the beach, her extended flippers making it feel like she could fly. Whitney almost always watched, as if the sight was just about the most important thing she’d ever see but one day, she approaches Sprinkle, her paws behind her back and her steps uncertain. Upon noticing, Sprinkle immediately stills.



“What’s behind your back?” She questioned.



Whitney looked just about ready to faint or flee and quickly presented her with a bouquet of hand picked flowers. The arrangement was beautiful; white and blue flowers in a tiny vase, a snowflake on the front. At the sight, Sprinkle’s eyes began to water, which didn’t go unnoticed by Whitney.



“Don’t get all emotional. It’s not a big deal.”



She smiles, her chin wobbling, “It is, though,” she gently takes the bouquet, hugging it to her chest. Whitney has never been one for sappy stuff; romance never interested her and Hallmark movies made her gag but she’d be lying if she said that the sight in front of her didn’t make her heart flutter.

——

The next snowstorm had Sprinkle dragging Whitney out of her house to build a snowman; she did her best to remind Sprinkle of what had happened the last time she frolicked around in cold weather but when her attempts appeared fruitless, she decided to just go with it.



Sprinkle was shooting off instructions as if it were a professional sport; she would be responsible for the head while Whitney would take care of the body. Sounds easy, right?



It wasn’t.



The first attempt, Sprinkle accidentally rolled the snowball into a bush, destroying it. She was distracted throughout the second attempt and by the time she was ready to focus, a dung beetle had already pushed the snowball into the nearby river. Whitney also learnt very quickly that Sprinkle wasn’t good at dimensions when she made the snowball the same size as the body.



The snowman was not pleased. At all.



“You have got to be kidding me,” he deadpans.



Whitney refuses to look, her cheeks ablaze with embarrassment. Meanwhile, Sprinkle was laughing. Laughing. The snowman was definitely not amused and Whitney felt as if she had landed herself a role in a low budget Frosty The Snowman movie.



“If I could turn my head, I’d be glaring at you so hard right now.”



Ignoring his complaints, Whitney and Sprinkle locked eyes and just like that, all of the embarrassment faded away.



“I’m glad we met,” Whitney confesses.



Sprinkle’s eyes light up with surprise but most of all, love, “I’m glad we met, too.”



“I’m not,” the snowman chimed in.


Laughter fills the air once more and despite the cold, Whitney feels an intense warmth spread through her. For the longest time, she was appalled by the thought of vulnerability, unable to figure out the appeal in love but when she looks over at Sprinkle again, she finally understands.

---

Return to the start of this thread. | Go to the end of the submissions.​

 

[Chris]

In an enchanted clearing secret to humans the most extraordinary creatures would appear during winter. They were known as the Starkeepers. Large celestial birds with long, shimmering tail feathers, wings as dazzling as starlight and eyes more exquisite than jewels, the Starkeepers would soar across the night sky like comets, but there was one Starkeeper who was the smallest of his kind. He was not a strong flier and his feathers were not quite as dazzling, but the light in his heart was sincere and true. Even so, the other Starkeepers paid him no heed. It discouraged him, being such a small thing...and as the wistful little Starkeeper continued to watch the world, he sometimes wondered if anyone would watch him, too, somewhere in that world.



As all the kingdom took to peaceful slumber, one bedroom light in all the palace remained on. Sitting upon her windowsill, the princess gazed at the starry sky, expression pensive. Though her room was brimming with all sorts of wonderful gifts from her suitors, such trivial gestures could never win her heart. How could she care for such things when all she could ever want was right here, watching the stars she admired so.



The king, however, was pompous and greedy. He was very pleased to have all the gold and treasures that he had. The princess did not think the same way like her father; hers was a virtuous, charitable heart. Where the king would take, the princess would give. The king saw fine, loyal young men ready for marriage, but the princess knew their wily ways.



“Think of the alliances that could be forged!” he would beam with pride.



“And what of my happiness, father?” but she would shake her head. “Is that not of greater value? I cannot marry a man whose mouth speaks of love and promises but whose eyes speak of my title or my money,” and would return to her windowsill. Often the princess would wonder, as she wistfully looked out at that vast night sky, if there was a star out there watching over her, too…



One night as the princess slept a gentle light flooded her room from the window. Stirred from her slumber, she went to close the curtains but stopped. When she took in the sight of that distant aurora all thoughts of sleep at once dissipated from her mind, face filled with wonder. Putting on her coat, the princess snuck away from the palace and went into the snowy woods, following the light of the aurora. Everybody knew the trees of the woods played tricks, but the light guided her down the path like a tender hand holding hers, a path no human had ever tread before.



Soon the princess came to a clearing, and that’s when she saw them—the Starkeepers. She watched in astonishment as the marvelous creatures joyfully flew about in the sky, the glittery glow of their tail feathers trailing ribbons of light, creating the aurora. Their calls were hauntingly beautiful.



The Starkeepers were incredible to see, but then she noticed one all by himself. He was so small and looked so lonely that the princess had nothing but compassion for him and went to console him.



“You dear creature, what’s wrong? Why do you not fly with the others?” she asked, but the little Starkeeper only gave a despondent cry. For a moment the princess’s face fell but then her blue eyes twinkled with an idea.



“Please don’t be so sad,” she smiled. “I’ll come visit you every night, then we could make this our own secret place.”



The little Starkeeper was touched by this girl who spoke so kindly and sweetly to him, and so every night that winter the princess returned to the clearing. She showed him how she could make snow angels and he showed her how he could glide about, wanting to try his very best for her, and it didn’t matter that he was one thing and she another—he sang his jubilant song, she laughed her cheerful laugh… The woodland animals all agreed they were the happiest pair there had ever been.



The princess told him of her hopes and dreams, her ambitions and sorrows. She told him how she would be left heartbroken, for she felt certain nobody loved her, all the while shedding big tears. And the little Starkeeper listened and looked at her and only her, for he did not see riches or even the crown upon her head. He only saw a young woman he would not hurt for the world.



On the final night of winter, it was time for the Starkeepers to return to the realm of the cosmos.



The princess was sad to see him go, but then the little Starkeeper did something wondrous. Using every bit of his power he made a star, a small yet beautiful star that emitted a comforting glow. The princess was simply captivated. It would mean everything to him if he could always make her smile like that, but how could she ever love such a small, sorry creature? This made him feel discouraged, but to the princess his eyes spoke more sincerely, more beautifully than any words ever could and thought that was a silly thing for him to think about, for of course she could.



“I see no small, sorry creature,” she told him, “but the grandest, sweetest creature in the whole world,” and she placed a tender kiss upon his petite head. “My darling Starkeeper, I’ll always be thinking of you, and no matter how far we might be, as long as we look at our star, we won’t ever be lonely.” And so, the princess let the star go into the sky where it shone brightly over the kingdom.



The princess continued to dream of the stars, looking out at the night sky as she tucked some of her wheat-gold hair behind her ear. And whenever her gaze fell upon their star she couldn’t help but miss her beloved friend so. She wished strongly upon the star every night from her windowsill, longing to be with her friend again.



Then suddenly, one winter night, when the princess was sure she heard familiar calls in the distance she hastened to the balcony. It was her greatest pleasure to behold the wonderful return of the Starkeepers. The creatures flew gracefully in the sky, but there was one Starkeeper who flew strongly and proudly—he was the biggest, most dazzling Starkeeper of them all. Landing on the balcony, the charming creature bowed before his princess, earning another one of her radiant smiles. No matter what the princess could always recognize those gentle eyes, and so, reunited at last, the two fondly pressed their heads together.



“My darling Starkeeper, how good it is to see you again,” she said, stroking his long neck.



Her heartfelt wishes had given the little Starkeeper the strength to become mighty. His wings were filled with the strength to fly across vast galaxies, further than he had ever gone, but he would always return, for this world was the loveliest place he knew, where a princess and a Starkeeper could meet in perfect happiness.



But as the king watched the Starkeepers, desire gripped his heart. Such exquisite creatures… He must have them, then he could admire their beauty whenever he pleased.



“Prove your loyalty to me! Capture the Starkeepers and bring them to me!” the king ordered the suitors and at once they readied themselves. They raised their weapons and threw their nets, caring not if they hurt the creatures. The Starkeepers, who knew only peace, were so frightened they didn’t know what to do and one by one they were captured. How the princess pleaded, but her father only ignored her. He was especially interested in the biggest, most dazzling Starkeeper, but the creature would not let himself be so easily captured. He swiftly dodged their weapons and not a net could brush his feathers, but one young man took careful aim and let his arrow fly, striking him. Down tumbled the creature, and it seemed he would at last be captured, but using his remaining strength he flew away to the woods.



The suitors gave chase, but because of the wickedness in their hearts the trees of the woods confounded them with illusions. The princess, however, knew the way, for the goodness in her heart would always take her to the secret path of the woods, reaching the enchanted clearing first. There she found her friend lying upon the snow in much pain.



“Oh sweet creature!” cried the tearful princess, rushing to his side. “Look what’s happened to you…!” The Starkeeper couldn’t move, so deep was his wound. He could only think about the plight of his fellow Starkeepers; to have their freedom suddenly taken away from them...



Suddenly the sound of footsteps became louder and the princess’s face became pale with terror. “No! They shan’t have you!” she gasped. “Please! You mustn’t stay here! Fly away!"



The Starkeeper refused, giving her a pleading cry.



“You must. Even if I am to never see you again, then so be it, but I must know that you will be safe…!” Her voice broke with emotion. “Please! I cannot bear to lose you!”



Within moments the suitors appeared, along with the king.



“My daughter, you will give the creature to me,” he ordered.



“I won’t,” said the princess firmly. She spoke not only to her father but to the suitors as well. “Have you no sympathy for these creatures? What you have done is shameful and wrong. By taking the Starkeepers, you have taken the beauty of the night sky. This beauty is not there for your selfish desires and it is no one’s possession. It is there for all to see."



The Starkeeper stood faithfully by his princess's side.



But the king’s covetous heart could not be moved. “You dare to defy me as well, creature? Very well, does your happiness mean more to you than the glow of your feathers?”



“No! I won’t let you give up the glow of your feathers!” the princess protested, but the Starkeeper gave it and as soon as he did he dazzled like starlight no more.



“Now give me the might of your wings."



“No! You mustn’t give up the might of your wings!” Once again the princess protested and once again the Starkeeper gave up what was his. As soon as he did all the strength left his wings, never to fly again.



“And your eyes… How they gleam with beauty. Give that to me,” was the king’s final command.



“Not that, not your beautiful eyes! I won’t allow it! You noble creature, you gave and you gave but now I will give. I will give all that I have and all that I am if it meant we could take this happiness far away with us.”



And then, a truly extraordinary thing happened. In answer of this profound wish a brilliant light enveloped the Starkeeper, his form slowly changing before everyone’s eyes, and where a creature of feathers and wings once was now stood a resplendently dressed prince with long, flowing white hair. The king was astonished. He did not believe this could be that very same creature, but the princess never doubted, for she needed only take one look into those gentle eyes.



Hand in hand they walked up a path of stars, higher and higher to the realm of the cosmos. With their freedom restored, the Starkeepers soared alongside them. The princess and the Starkeeper never gave the thought of marriage any mind. And why should they? There was no better way of delighting in their love than simply being together, laughing together, and dreaming together.



And every winter, whenever an aurora appeared in the sky the people of the kingdom were sure they saw two happy figures playing in the stars and couldn’t help but feel happy themselves for some reason.

---

Return to the start of this thread. | Go to the end of the submissions.​

 

[Chris]

Thank you for taking the time to read through our six finalists' short stories. Please make sure to return to the top of this page and cast your vote for the short story you feel is most deserving of that Gold Trophy Collectible!

 

[Xara]

AYO MY STORY’S UP THERE!!!!!??? i’m literally- i’ve never been a finalist for anything before i-

 

[SpaceTokki77]

AYO MY STORY’S UP THERE!!!!!??? i’m literally- i’ve never been a finalist for anything before i-

View attachment 357776

you deserve it!! your story was amazing

 

[Firesquids]

It's so hard to pick just one! I love how many talented people there are on tbt, it's always so fun looking through the the different takes everyone has on the same prompt. Congrats to the finalists, you guys deserve the recognition!

 

[Roxxy]

It's so hard to pick just one! I love how many talented people there are on tbt, it's always so fun looking through the the different takes everyone has on the same promt. Congrats to the finalists, you guys deserve the recognition!

All the finalists are so talented and the stories were amazing It is so hard to pick a favourite but you have to go with your heart

Congratulations to all the finalists

 

[Xara]

you deserve it!! your story was amazing

thank you so much!! <3

 

[Chris]

AYO MY STORY’S UP THERE!!!!!??? i’m literally- i’ve never been a finalist for anything before i-

During the staff voting stage, I read your entry and then immediately went and made a mug of hot chocolate. Then I did so again today after putting this thread together. It just makes me crave warmth and sweetness - and I don't really like sweets.

 

[tessa grace]

Guys these were so good! Good luck to everyone and I hope the finalists enjoy the prizes if they win! <3

 

[Snakeisbaby]

I have been sitting here reading through all that wonderfulness and you expect me to pick only one?! honestly I have no idea how you and mairmalade picked between over 100
Am I the only one curious about the shortlist haha, I had a few favs I wanted to see make it on the list

 

[Chris]

I have been sitting here reading through all that wonderfulness and you expect me to pick only one?! honestly I have no idea how you and mairmalade picked between over 100
Am I the only one curious about the shortlist haha, I had a few favs I wanted to see make it on the list

It was certainly a challenge! Each of our shortlists had 25 names. 14 matched, and that was the list that was presented to the rest of the team for staff nominations.

 

[Nefarious]

Just want to say a quick thank you to staff for nominating my story for finalist!
As I mentioned in another thread, I was incredibly surprised by the news this morning. I wasn't expecting it at all, so it made my day. Thank you!

Big congrats to the other finalists! All their stories are so well written (they surely moved me haha) and deserve the recognition. It was really hard to choose who to give my vote for, they're all so amazing.

 

[```]

Everybody did wonderful creating these fantastic stories! All of the finalists are talented and creative for writing their delightful stories, it's going to be a tough decision to pick which story to vote for, every one of the stories was such a joy to read through

 

[The Pennifer]

WOW Awesome entries!! With great difficulty I narrowed it down to two and then struggled over which was my top choice ... finally I decided and when I reviewed the voting results to date I see that my top two were also the highest of everyone else! ... so far
These were all a real pleasure to re-read and I’m looking forward to seeing the gold trophy winner!!