Young Writers Society

Just so you know, this is bloody. If you don't like that kind of stuff, don't read any farther. This is also part of a novel, but i don't know how to set it up as one...
This does have some fantasy elements to it, but it think this particular piece is more action than fantasy.
This is only the first page and a half of my chapter, and i don't know if i should post anymore....

Wind whispered through the trees as I ran. My paws hit the ground almost silently; quite an accomplishment for an almost-full grown panther. The moon was bright tonight. Bright enough to bath the world in a silver glow. I didn’t need the moon to see. My eyesight was as good at night as it was by day.
“Jace!” a wolf howled into the night. I sped up, angling myself toward the sound. James, my mentor, would whip my sorry butt if I didn’t come fast enough. Aside from that, I had no wish to be alone in the forest when an army of immortals could be lurking behind any tree.
I skidded into the clearing. One thousand shape-shifters, all in their second form, watched as I took my place next to James. I wasn’t a warrior yet, only an apprentice, and I was supposed to keep close to my mentor during battle. His job was too keep me from getting killed too quickly.
“They’ll be here soon.” The low whisper rippled through the small army. I could feel the fur on my neck stand up. All I had known my entire life was fighting. The four dominant races of Earth, shape-shifters, vampires, faeries, and humans, had been warring long before I was born. For generations, we pressed for a victory. But it just wasn’t possible. There could be no winner.
Suddenly, the forest was full of people. Golden-eyed, extraordinarily beautiful people with swords and scythes of silver, the only metal that could kill an immortal. The faeries had arrived.
I charged into the thick of the fighting, nothing but a whirlwind of ivory claws and razor sharp teeth. I felt what seasoned fighters spoke of, the coldness of the blood. It was as cold as ice. The only fear I felt was fear of myself.
But then came the screams. The groans. The blood; gold for the faeries, scarlet for the shape-shifters. A silver blade cut into my shoulder, and I growled in pain, turning on my attacker. He had no time to run before I had him.
My heart pounded in my chest. It was too loud, too fast. How cold killing made you. So very cold, though your skin was burning and your blood was flowing fever-hot. I saw the faces of my enemies, contorted with rage and hatred – or was it terror?
I was shaking convulsively. A scythe slashed my leg – my human leg, not my panther’s one. I staggered to the edge of the battle field and threw up next to one of the bodies. Red dots danced in my vision. I collapsed on the ground, using all my remaining strength to hold my panther form.
Then everything went dark.

I really like this! you should definitly post more! i was confused about the shape shifters, fairies, vampires and humans, but i'm sure that the reason why they are fighting is explained in a different section of the book.

I thought that was pretty damn good, and i'm not normally one for fantasy. I can't really find any problem with it, thought it was all good to read. You should definitely write more on it because it was most definitely impressive.

I too am a little confused about the various types of creatures and who are the immortals? I found the idea of an army behind a tree a little unrealistic. However, very imaginative and good basis for more.

My eight year old thinks and writes this:

This is a stupendous story. I think the way that you described that shape - shifter's injuries was very good. When you said 'bath' do you mean 'bathe'?

I really like this, and I would love to see more of this!

Wind whispered through the trees as I ran. My paws hit the ground almost silently; quite an accomplishment for an almost-full grown panther. The moon was bright tonight. Bright enough to bath the world in a silver glow. I didn’t need the moon to see. My eyesight was as good at night as it was by day.

The only thing that I really got caught in here is the bit about silence being quite an accomplishment for a panther--panthers are naturally very quiet creatures. Also, of course, as someone has already pointed out, "bath" here should be "bathe."

“Jace!” a wolf howled into the night. I sped up, angling myself toward the sound. James, my mentor, would whip my sorry butt if I didn’t come fast enough. Aside from that, I had no wish to be alone in the forest when an army of immortals could be lurking behind any tree.

This part is a little confusing, only because you haven't differentiated who is speaking during this segment. Because wolves don't generally speak words, it's a little disorienting as a reader (who also doesn't know the narrator's name yet, though I'm sure since this is part of a story we would already know his name). Otherwise, I don't see any grammatical problems or pacing issues.

I skidded into the clearing. One thousand shape-shifters, all in their second form, watched as I took my place next to James. I wasn’t a warrior yet, only an apprentice, and I was supposed to keep close to my mentor during battle. His job was too keep me from getting killed too quickly.

“They’ll be here soon.” The low whisper rippled through the small army. I could feel the fur on my neck stand up. All I had known my entire life was fighting. The four dominant races of Earth, shape-shifters, vampires, faeries, and humans, had been warring long before I was born. For generations, we pressed for a victory. But it just wasn’t possible. There could be no winner.

This is good, but a tad expositional for my tastes. It seems hurried, because we are right in the middle of an intense and particularly action-packed little scene. I would try and find a place in your story where everything is a little calmer where you can explain everything slowly and in more detail. Right now it just doesn't seem thought-out, and it's a little like, "Oh and by the way we've been at war for centuries for no discernable reason." Why are they fighting? What does the narrator think about it? How does he feel about being essentially conscripted into this army?

Suddenly, the forest was full of people. Golden-eyed, extraordinarily beautiful people with swords and scythes of silver, the only metal that could kill an immortal. The faeries had arrived.

Not sure if you're looking to be accurate from the standpoint of popular legend, but I think that iron is what kills faeries according to most lore. It doesn't really matter, but it might make this a little more cohesive. Also the idea of a sword composed of silver is a difficult one, as (from what I understand) it's a rather porous metal and not durable enough for fighting.

I charged into the thick of the fighting, nothing but a whirlwind of ivory claws and razor sharp teeth. I felt what seasoned fighters spoke of, the coldness of the blood. It was as cold as ice. The only fear I felt was fear of myself.

The fact that your narrator is charging into the thick of the fighting without shifting his attention to his mentor is a little at odds with the fact that he is supposedly under James's protection. And I'm not entirely sure about the "cold blood" statement. Adrenaline is more of a heated feeling, as the heart rate and blood pressure increase, and I feel like that is more likely how he is feeling. Coldness is a little too reminiscent of fear.

But then came the screams. The groans. The blood; gold for the faeries, scarlet for the shape-shifters. A silver blade cut into my shoulder, and I growled in pain, turning on my attacker. He had no time to run before I had him.

My heart pounded in my chest. It was too loud, too fast. How cold killing made you. So very cold, though your skin was burning and your blood was flowing fever-hot. I saw the faces of my enemies, contorted with rage and hatred – or was it terror?

I was shaking convulsively. A scythe slashed my leg – my human leg, not my panther’s one. I staggered to the edge of the battle field and threw up next to one of the bodies. Red dots danced in my vision. I collapsed on the ground, using all my remaining strength to hold my panther form.

This is fantastic up until the last paragraph. My only confusion here is with the clarification about his leg. Does he have one panther leg and one human leg? Or is he being cut while he's a panther, but the damage is done to both forms? If it is the latter, I don't think you need to explain.

Otherwise this is a really enjoyable piece. Great work!

Whoa, dude, I like this. The most prominent feature about this is thevery beginning--it pulls you in.

Simple. That's all I have to say:)

--Lollipopper

I'm not the kind of person who will tell you if you have grammar mistakes or not, but I know when I see a good story, and I think this is really good! The only parts I don't quite understand are the immortals (The enemy). I was having a tough time understanding that. If you could clear it up a bit, that would make this story much better! Nice work and keep it up!