Anthology of Lost Motivation
Anthology of Lost Motivation
A collection of stories that were never quite completed for one reason or another
A collection of stories that were never quite completed for one reason or another
Written by Wolsal
October, 2024
Snap.
If they didn’t know any better, they would think they could hear the sound.
In front of them stood a [DMNLHTRTWBH], a small creature bundled up in their arms. They stood at their door, looking at them expectantly.
They felt their eyes twitch as they stared on at the tiny pink baby wrapped up in a blanket, elongated snout with whiskers shooting out in every direction, rounded folded down ears and closed eyes.
Standing behind the [DMNLHTRTWBH] was a cream colored cat adorned in flowery garments, huge pink eyes looking up at them. And stood just off behind them, gathered in the temple at the bottom of the stairs, was everyone else.
“Rat- I mean, Ratil, good morning! We all came as soon as we could, we had to share the good news-!” [DMNLHTRTWBH] spoke, uncharacteristically excited sounding.
In that moment of time, something in them broke, a tether pulled so tight, fraying away and growing thinner and thinner, wearing weaker and weaker.
That something in them snapped.
“What.” One simple word, spoken in a shake, a word that in any other situation wouldn’t elicit more than a half hearted reply. They watched in real time as shock fell onto everyone's faces, contorting their placid faces into ones of utter bewilderment.
“What is this…” Their voice shook, tears building in their eyes as they took a step back, eyes locked onto the many figures in front of them.
They dug their small nails into the wooden frame of the door as they felt the tears begin to spill down their face.
They watched as the bug's mouth opened, trying to find the words. They held up a pawed hand. “Don’t.” They hissed, glaring at them. “Leave.” They spoke, trying to stop their voice from cracking.
“Ratil, listen, we just-” A spindly kytenous hand falling on their shoulder, making them flinch away, stepping further in. “I SAID LEAVE.” The rat growled, shoving their hand away. Tears continued to spill down their face, dripping onto the floor.
Written by Wolsal
December, 2024
Chaos. That was the only word that could truly describe the carnage- sheer, unadulterated, chaos.
The 5 warriors darted around the arena, all fighting a common enemy. Piercing, blue eyes bore into the combatants, pitch black plumage seeming to not only absorb, but consume the light that hit them.
The shing of a dagger slicing against flesh rung in his ears… or maybe it was rushing of his own blood. He couldn’t tell- he didn’t care to tell. Another summoned enemy fell- he had to get to them
His hooves clopped rapidly against the concrete brick floors, moving swiftly and quickly to where he saw his companion. The [DMNLHTRTWBH] was in a duel with the large vulture, the other 3 busy fending off summoned plumed enemies.
He watched as they effortlessly bore their long curved blades, smashing against oncoming flurries from the enemy herself. Weapons floated and moved in front of her, keeping she herself safe and sound from the [DMNLHTRTWBH].
At a glance, you may assume these were simply autonomous weapons- perhaps they had invisible wielders.
But no, it was none of those things. Upon more than a cursory look, you could see the almost glowing blue fog that seemed to bend around the weapons, glistening and shimmering in the light.
The source was clear- the crown. A foreboding awful thing, granting the wearer near limitless powers. The fog trailed up to the strange eyed headpiece, eye fixed on the smaller enemy.
The loud piercing sounds of metal hitting metal invaded his ears, an uncomfortable sound at best and a deadly distraction at worst. Yells and curses bounced around the circular walls of the room, disorienting him as he calculated his next move.
The smallest combatant, a grey goat with soft hazel eyes darted forwards, holding out his weapon. He managed to jam it into the heinous bird's leg, so much going on that she didn’t even notice his presence.
Written by Wolsal
September, 2025
CONTENT WARNING(S): Panic attacks, grief, implied character death mentioned
It was so quiet. He couldn’t remember the last time it had been this quiet.
Solomon stared at the wall he faced, eye unfocused as he spaced out. All the windows had been curtained off, only the slightest bit of light illuminated the room.
He felt himself draw in one tentative breath after the other- the pit in his stomach only growing. He noted the familiar unwelcome intrusion of tears in his eye, though he made no sound. Every few moments he'd need to remind himself to continue drawing in breath, else he’d hold it without even registering he was doing so.
Keith had left to pick up some supplies the pair needed- though Solomon couldn’t accompany him. He let out a choked growl, gritting his teeth as he tried to will away the tears in his eyes. He rolled over- trying to take his mind off of things.
As he looked at the other side of the room, he saw Keith’s belongings strewn around, a few notes haphazardly pinned to the wall with reminders that Keith had scrawled on. He also saw a few belongings in a neat pile on the desk that sat parallel to their bed. Some clothes, a few knick-knacks, and the thing that sent him over the edge- a stack of worn paper with borderline incoherent writing. The paper on top a letter Wolperlope had written to Solomon.
He let out a guttural sob, more quickly following as his face scrunched up- wrought with emotions gripping him so tight it felt like he was suffocating. He buried his face into the blanket wrapped around him- stifling his sobs in the soft fabric.
He heard a soft creak as the door opened- he didn’t bother lifting his head up to look, he knew it was him. He heard several items being set down on the ground, followed by the sound of the door shutting and anxious footsteps approaching him.
“Sol?” A gentle yet concerned voice said, Keith leaning down to better see his partner. Solomon lifted his head up just enough to peer at him- though his vision was blurred from tears he could still see the concern on Keith’s face. He always tried to hide it, but he didn’t do a very good job at it.
Keith sat down next to him on the bed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey… it’s ok- I’m here…” He spoke softly, moving his hand to gently rest on his head. He ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to soothe him.
Solomon sobbed quietly, he didn’t need to say or explain anything. Keith knew what was wrong. He leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. Keith leant against the backboard of their bed, carefully lifting Solomon up and holding him close.