Snippets of some dank stories (except they're actually stories)

A bit of a longer one, incHICT?

        As the morning light poured into the room, Bonnie opened her eyes drowsily and got up to sit outside and enjoy the crispening early morning wind. The sun’s orange beams of warmth overcame the receding darkness in the valley below the rock ledge, and the foggy mists began to lose it’s tinge.
        The rock is cold, she thought. Too cold, but I'll get used to it. You see, this huge, almost concrete white stone was not only where she came to doze but where she lived. And for the last six months that she had come to live there, everything had been a shock. Wonderful--but a shock. The cave was huge, and for a while she wouldn’t dare proceed to the back of the cave, where Orabelle’s room was located. She’d heard too many stories about explorers in deep caves who got attacked by bears.
        And yet, whenever she caught sight of a wild animal, they never seemed to mind her or want her dead or harmed in any way. “They have accepted you,” Orabelle would tell her. “Humans have lived in this cave for thousands of years.”
        Bonnie almost fell asleep once again when she heard the soft thuds of someone’s footsteps behind her. She stayed where she was, however, and let the noise come to her.
        “What are you doing up so early? Don’t tell me you miss… them.” Charlie stuttered as she mumbled apologetically. “It’s just that they seemed so terrible…”
        “It’s okay. It’s not like I could ever wish to be back with those monsters.” Bonnie told her, closing her eyes as an ice cold draft passed by them. “I just like sitting out here. ‘Can’t believe how green the grass is. And the boulders--they seem like the colors of a lion’s mane. How come other people haven’t found this place?”
        Charlie reached up to scratch her neck before she sat down next to Bonnie, then widened her eyes and shivered. “I’m not sure. You’d have to ask Orabelle those things, she’s basically our leader. She’s Anne’s granddaughter. Anyway, how are you sitting on this thing? It’s freezing.”
“Who even is Anne? What did she do? And what happened to Orabelle’s mother?” Bonnie asked.
“Well, she was sort of like everyone’s mother figure. She taught everyone everything, but I... don’t really remember her all that well.” Charlie laughed a little and sighed. “I just remember the night that she took me in and mended my wounds, and how I felt loved for the first time in my life.” She started crying and everything seemed quiet again. Charlie didn’t answer her other questions, and she was dying to ask, but Bonnie thought it was best not to break the silence.
That morning, as she walked in to get breakfast, Rosalin and Otis were already getting the table ready. She sat down at her new regular seat, which was directly across from Orabelle, who seemed to be absent. “Where’s Orabelle?”
Rosalin set down a bowl of steaming apple cinnamon oatmeal in front of Bonnie. “She’s gone out to the city. We’re running out of food, and some other supplies, so she’ll probably be back in about a week.”
A week, Bonnie thought. In the city, it could take twenty minutes to run to the store real quick. Living here, up on a seaside cliff, it took days just to get to the small village. “Thanks, Rosalin. For the oatmeal.”
“No problem!” Rosalin did her cutesy charm, lifting the edge of her skirt to curtsey, her large green eyes twinkling.
One by one, people started to wake up and filled the breakfast table. Charlie recovered from the morning incident and sat next to George. She always seemed to be happier after talking to him. Sadly, this was a scenario of unrequited love, as it seemed quite obvious that George’s attention was on Rosalin.
The two oldest members of the group were Orabelle and Thomas. They basically knew each other inside and out, and always knew what the other was thinking. Even though they seemed inseparable, Bonnie thought Thomas was quite good looking, and that she might have a chance...