Gallery

Dear Mother and Father, If this letter reaches you in time, I hope so. Although I anticipate, considering the leisurely rural pace of Camp Silverpine's "mail system," that it will materialize sometime between my homecoming and the next equinox. Still, I felt compelled to put pen to paper and yes, actually pen, by hoof, pen grasped clenched in teeth and neck at a very unbeco...

It was barely dawn when Bao was suddenly roused by a succession of thunderous knocks upon the wooden planks of his bunk. "Rise and shine, Bao!" Reed bellowed, his voice too cheerful for so early in the day. "Time to catch breakfast!" Bao growled into his pillow. "I don't catch breakfast, Reed. I order it." Reed’s face popped in...

The gravel crunched beneath the rickety old camp wagon's wheels as it made its way down a column of giant pines. Bao peeked over the sheet of the wagon, frowning. The terrain was green. Too green. Not the groomed, landscaped green of his family's mansion—this was wild green. Translucent and unmanicured, teeming with unseen bugs and releasing the aroma of damp bark and wildflowers. He disapproved of it. ...