Seasons change, and the world swirls with pops of color — in the northern hemisphere, the last gently floating organic leaves mixed with artificial lights that begin to appear far too early, while in the southern, it’s still bright and blooming. Creativity has its phases and seasons as well, and prompts are good for working on creativity-on-demand, for all that it might be different in color and flavor from when inspiration naturally strikes.
Onward with the prompts!
| Prompter | Prompt | Promptee |
| Fiona Grey | “As if average means anything to those of us who are odd,” she perused aloud, “except perhaps to determine how far outside it we might venture.” | Becky Jones |
| AC Young | The highways of the trees were much more convenient for getting around the forest than the paths on the ground. | Leigh Kimmel |
| Becky Jones | It was a bifurcated sort of day. | nother Mike |
| Leigh Kimmel | The long double ribbon of highway stretched on to the horizon — and overhead an airship battled a swarm of biplanes. | Fiona Grey |
| Padre | The grains are now gathered/The gifts of our gods/The fields lie fallow/with the harvest finished | AC Young |
| nother Mike | Werewolves change to wolves under the full moon, but werehumans suffer the opposite problem… | Padre |
Forgot to send one in? Testing the waters? It’s like a library, no card needed – just check out a prompt and drop your inspired creation in the comments.
| Spare | The children of the Marshmallow Queen were among the most feared. |
| Spare | Kitty got her revenge on the coyote, all right. With interest. |
| Spare | Eventually, the politician’s popcorn and candy promises grew brittle. |
| Spare | “What notes of wisdom might you have for us?” he asked lightheartedly, with no idea how much the words cut her to the bone. |
| Spare | We’re moving the other side of Bridges. |
| Spare | When the penguins started skating on the memorial pond, it was cold! |
What color do you bring to the world this week?
Header image by Fiona Grey
More Odds Than Ends 
This week Padre’s prompt cycled round to me: The grains are now gathered/The gifts of our gods/The fields lie fallow/with the harvest finished
It looks like some sort of harvest poetry. So, here goes…
—
Elric, dressed in the deep, dark brown robes of a priest of Soilac, the god of the earth, opened the door to the temple. It was nearly noon and it was time to make his preparations for the harvest service.
The village was too small to have multiple temples, so it was a pantheon, serving all the gods, major and minor. The village also lacked a permanent priest, with their services being supplied by a renewing stream of temporary priests. Elric had been assigned by the local Temple of Earth to serve for this season – the harvest service would be his last major festival before his time here was at an end and he returned to town to progress in Soilac’s service.
At the far, eastern, end of the small temple were statues of the three great gods and their wives. On the left was Amplet, the god of light, master of the sun, lord of the air and sky. Next to him was Eldreth, the goddess of night, the lady of the stars. On the right was Marus, the god of water, ruler of the sea, capricious, not to be trusted. Beside him was Avlith, the goddess of rivers, much more dependable and reliable than her husband. In the middle was Soilac, and Presith, his wife, daughter of Marus and Avlith, the goddess of rain. In many of the towns she was considered only a minor goddess – she was the daughter of two major gods after all – but here, where the farmers depended on good rainfall to grow the crops, it was foolish to anger her by treating her as less than her husband.
Arranged along the southern wall were statues of the triplets – Aurus the god of beasts, Ordrith the goddess of birds, and Philon the god of fish.
The northern wall had statues of Hellus, the god of death next to the door – the last god anyone exiting the temple would pass just as he was the last god the worshipper would meet in life. Further in were the statues of Minus, the god of the underground, and Frolith, the goddess of cold, notoriously unforgiving of anyone who failed to adequately prepare for her domain – one much feared further north, but merely treated with respect at these latitudes.
Before the major gods stood the altar. The front was carved with reliefs of some of the lesser gods of the pantheon. Argenith, the goddess of the moon, daughter of Amplet and Eldreth, was in the centre, flanked by the twin children of Soilac and Presith: Wheseth, the goddess of crops, and Forik, the god of wild plants. Not appearing there was Helcarath, the goddess of ice, daughter of Minus and Frolith – like her mother she was not feared here, and the farmers saw little need to show her much respect.
Elric made his way down the chapel, lighting all the candles on the way. Then he prepared the altar by wiping off all the dust.
He finished in time. At noon, the villagers paraded in. The first ranks bore carefully selected firstfruits of the wheat, the rye, and all the other grains that were grown in the village’s fields.
The sheafs of grains were laid with care on the altar. Then the villagers arranged themselves in front of the altar with Elric officiating behind the altar.
Elric started the traditional harvest chant:
“The grains are now gathered;
The gifts of our gods.
The fields lie fallow
With the harvest finished.”
The villagers responded:
“All praise to Wheseth for our crops;
All praise to Presith for the rain;
All praise to Soilac for the good soil;
All praise to Amplet for the sun.
“The gods have given of their bounty.
We have received it and praise them.
Our crops have grown in abundance.
We will consume them with praise.”
Elric then formally accepted the offerings on behalf of the gods, and blessed the harvest on their behalf. He released the villagers to partake of the harvest feast.
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Nice pantheon!
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Very nice!
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[…] week’s More Odds Than End prompt came from Fiona Grey. “As if average means anything to those of us who are odd,” she […]
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More, please!
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What she said! We need more! When is the book coming out? Yay!
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[…] Check more out over at MOTE! […]
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[…] can read all of the prompt responses, or play along yourself, over at More Odds Than Ends. Creativity needs a little push from time to […]
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And with a spare, I was able to work on the backstory of a character… https://www.cedarwrites.com/odd-prompts-strange-new-world/
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And now mine is up on my LiveJournal at https://starshipcat.livejournal.com/1435614.html. Revisiting an old connection from a different point of view.
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Becky Jones prompted…
It was a bifurcated sort of day.
[hum, split ends, separation anxiety, this or that, all those decisions’ decisions, decisions… ]
Henry groaned. Today had been… well, there were some good things, and some bad things. It was a bifurcated sort of day, as his father used to say. Then he’d ask, “Do you want the bad news first, or the good news first?” And you never quite knew which one he would tell you, even after you told him which one you wanted to hear first.
On balance, he had to admit, perhaps today wasn’t… well, actually it was.
He looked up at the sky. Rolling clouds on one side, and blue sky on the other? What the heck? Even the weather seemed to be bifurcated today!
That’s when he looked where he was walking, and saw it. Two roads diverged in the yellow wood… it was a bifurcated road, darn it all! So which one should he take?
He sat down, pulled out his cell phone, and started scrolling through posts. They might take his mind off his splitting headache… Then one caught his eye. It looked like an old hand-written sign, just slapped up in a picture. The message was so simple, too.
“Embrace the power of AND!”
He stared at it, and he could swear he felt the calming flood of syrup gently easing his headache. And! There it went, like a thundering army of ants, pushing things together.
Still, there was no way that he could walk both of the bifurcated roads. At least not today. But… tomorrow, and tomorrow, he could walk the left and the right branches!
And…
[okay, a bit scattered, but maybe…]
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‘Nother Mike proposed “Werewolves change to wolves under the full moon, but werehumans suffer the opposite problem…”
“Do you think your sister is there?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been searching for years and the slaves I met in the market told me that one who matched her description was sold to Lord Brathron three days ago. On the other hand, one, I almost daren’t hope it’s her. I’ve been searching for so long that I it seems hopeless, but it still drives me. And two, her description matches any number of thousands of women from the north. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, lithe build. But I can’t know until I talk to her.
“How do you know you can get close enough?”
“I doubt they can tell one slave from another and I know how to move under the cover of night. Besides, the owners here are less wary than the Wolf clans were in my youth and I am one of the few who spied on their rituals and survived.”
“The wolf clans? They are notorious even among the cities for their secrecy and their ability to sniff out those who spied on them. How did you manage it?”
“Youthful idiocy, blind luck, and enough raw talent to make up the difference.”
“I was young, just reaching my manhood and first noticing women. On a hunt, I went far from the village, seeking game, and pushed into the Wolflands north of the river. While there, I spied a young lass about my age on the hunt herself. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and still visits me in my dreams at times. Fair skin, hair red as a fox, and dressed in hunters’ leathers, carrying a bow. She beat me to a buck and I was in love. I think she knew I was there, but never let on.”
“Three days before full moon that month, I headed out again, ranging further and deeper than I had before, seeking her, seeking her clan. On the day of the full moon, I found tracks and followed them. They led me deep into the forest, a part where the trees were taller and seemed older, trees that were ancient before humans first came into those forests. And there in a clearing, the wolf clan gathered.
“As the full moon rose above the horizon, the humans for the wolf clans gathered around a bonfire and danced. And I learned the truth of the stories that were whispered among my people. As the full moon bathed the clearing in her light, the wolf clan greeted her with howls. Some of them changed, becoming the wolves that their clan claimed as their totem. Meanwhile, there were wolves among them that became human under the light of the moon.”
“I watched, spellbound, hidden in the dark of that forest for a long while, then, shook off my reverie and began to slip away, when howls broke out in the clearing. The chase was on.”
“I don’t know how they knew I was there, but I was the prey that night, not the hunter. The girl I spied was in the lead, wearing her wolf-shape, and I just got to the river ahead of the pack. I dove into the water and swam, managing to put enough distance between me and them that I escaped.”
Drak paused, lost in his memories for a second, then continued. “Anyway, I doubt these city lords and their guards can match the tenacity of the wolf clan in their element. I should be fine.”
Vinal smiled. “Go, then. And good luck.”
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