Nightpaw-Personal Narrative

Grimsley’s use of figurative language fabricates a tone of anticipation. The narrator describes the clouds as “hanging close over the treetops, heavy with a load of something waiting to fall.” The ambiguity of “something” infers that a storm

“I had a dream, a dream of the past,” he said breathing loudly. “I betrayed them, I betrayed them all . I watch my mom and sister starved by the party without saying a word.”

In this excerpt, The First Betrayal, Patricia Bray, describes a character in a mysterious lighthouse where, a series of unusual events occur that startle the character. Bray uses dramatic diction and vivid imagery to contribute to the mood of suspense. In order to portray an ominous mood, Bray uses dramatic diction such as, “relentless”, “engulfed” and “devour.” When the light succumbed to the darkness, Jason persuaded himself it was unnecessary to see the light, except the feeling of “darkness [engulfing] him” disagreed.

The weather is very stormy as she is traveling on the river, which affects her in a number of ways. It hinders her ability to see properly, and it makes for some rough waters, contradicting her hope for smooth travel. The storm only progresses, reaching the point where there are “... torrential rains. Waves higher than…” her “...kayak, trying to capsize…” her.

The theme of Nightjohn by Gary Paulsen is when faced with hardship always power through. In the text it states “He come at night. Tell us to learn some letters, then tell us to come here to school.” This quote shows shows that after Sarny sees what happened to Pawly she still want to sneak out of her plantation and come back in the morning. Pawly would sneak out to a girl’s plantation and, was caught in the morning; he was killed by the dogs later.

She looks at him with desperation, fear, and hopelessness and says, “It’s very kind of you, but that is what they all say and I promise you he always finds a way.”

“My only goal was to get both you and Skye out of the city and thanks to Crysta, I was able to fulfill that goal.” He glances briefly at me and blinks in gratitude before turning his granddaughter. He reaches out and touches Skye’s head, tears coming to his eyes. “The two people, I love most in this world, and you’re both safe and free. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Usually a storm creeps upon us, hits a luminous climax, and then fades away into nothingness.  In The Storm, Kate Chopin develops a parallel between a rainstorm and an emotional storm in a woman’s life.  Chopin uses symbolism to depict the feelings of relationships that are as unpredictable as that of a raging storm.

Feeling the need to defend his mate, even if neither loved the other, he spoke, defending both his actions and Nightcloud as a person. “Well, what did you think I’d do? Let my Clanmates go on thinking I was more loyal to ThunderClan? Nightcloud is a great cat, and a good mother.” He hated to admit it, but she was a better mother than he was a

My body quivered to the sound of raindrops crashing against the roof, resembling the sound of desperate souls throwing their fists in both rage and fear. I knew that wasn’t the case but still I had to convince myself that everything was alright. Still I had to convince myself that the ‘banging’ sounds were merely drops of water finding refuge in the cracks that dug into the roof of my own place of refuge, Yungaba.

“They did not heed the crashing torrents, and the roar of the elements made her laugh as she lay in his arms” (page. 396) The storm reaches its climax, as do Calixta and Alcee, and in his arms she is no longer scared, she now laughs at the roaring storm. “The growl of the thunder was distant and passing away. The rain beat softly upon the shingles…” (p. 396). The storm is passing, the threat is over

Snowtail paced impatiently across the springy plants weaving beneath his paws, letting a low growl when he noticed the slight drizzle beginning to dampen his recently groomed pelt. “Where could she be?” He pondered, pausing to seek out the scent of his sister. It can’t be that hard to sneak out of camp, considering how chaotic it’s been on the other side of the lake, he thought. Then again, she is a queen, and the clan would be suspicious of her leaving with her kits. A booming crash of thunder set the tom immediately out of his thoughts, a prick of fear making his fur rise. He took to the shelter of a willow tree hardly fox-lengths away from the meeting spot, hiding near its base in an attempt to keep him from getting anymore wet.

Phaerala took pleasure in the night as it swept over her. It brought forth a symphony of nocturnal creatures in its wake. She could hear the insects and bird calls as she settled her weight upon the thick trunk. Her long silver hair captured bits of sticks as she plummeted down. The bark rummaging into her open wounds did not help her resolve either, only serving to further weaken it.

Jack jumped off the top of the train, as a tall creature with razor teeth and red, snake-like eyes, chased him, going for the kill. They fought, but the creature was to quick, it pinned Jack, claws digging into his flesh.
The night was cold and gloomy, lights lit up the streets of London, the moons subtle glow reflected on small puddles left from the earlier rain.

Every rumble of thunder from above made her wish that she had stayed in the rowboat. Each wave tossed her around as if she was a doll, and her lungs were beginning to sting with the pain of inadequate air. She felt like the storm tossed her around for a couple hours, but she wasn’t sure because she didn’t have a watch; however, she thought she could barely see a hint of the rising sun in the east, which meant that she had only been in the water for a good hour while the storm raged around her. The storm finally subsided enough for her to stop struggling and float with the current, but she had very little energy left to actually try to get to any land. She relaxed her body, and as the current carried her, went in and out of consciousness, finally blacking out just before she washed ashore a densely overgrown