Anya Rose Goodwin

Please go to the following link. https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/404327495

My mum set me, my brother and Oscar (oscarwrigley.me.uk) a blog challenge where we have to write about our favourite dinosaur.

My favourite dinosaur is an Argentavis. It is an attack dino that can fly. Who doesn’t like that? Travel and attack, defence and pet, it can be used as anything you want. Yes, they look down on you in a very condescending way, but they submit to your demands. They have a beak like a parrots, they lived about 6 million years ago and they were technically a species of bird. Also known as a Giant Teraton, the scientific name is Argentavis magnificens (Magnificent silver bird).

They are the largest flying bird to ever be discovered and was the size of a small aircraft...

Somewhere near the end. If there will be.

The stupid cow pooped so much whenever (and wherever) she liked, that they had to stand outside with under a canopay with a fire in each corner and a table in the middle. They would have used one of the buildings, but Mary pooped so much. “Ok, if there was a hill, then you would want to place your army on the top of it.” said Mary. 

“Yep. That is the 5th time that you’ve said it.” Bella muttered. Sheila kicked her friend hard in the side and she grunted. 

So, one and on they ‘learnt’, until one day when ll came to watch. He realised that Mary did not know anything about it. Mary the cow, who pooped and constantly smocked, got fired for being a spy for the sheep. And she was...

Number 2. The last.

She was staring at herself in wonder. Beatrice wore a tight shirt with a yellow jacket and straight black trousers. Her brown hair had been swept up into a ponytail and it curled slightly so it appeared wavy.

Maisie was tapping her on the shoulder and someone was knocking on the door. “Time to leave now. You are going to see the King.” So, off Beatrice went to go the King. To see the King, and her dream could come true. Beatrice opened the door and stopped short when she saw the King standing outside her door. She whirled round to find Masie had disappeared. “You seem surprised.” the King said from behind her. The tone was hinted with amusement. 

She turned to face a man with warm, brown eyes and an expression that found the best in somebody...

Bored yet?

“That is what I thought,”Craige said, as he walked by.

“Can you find 4 others for tactics and every other willing llama will start to train for battle, female and male?” asked ll.

“I would be honored to,”said Sheila. “I will get to it right away.”

“Thank you. I will find people to hire that can teach you in battle tactics and combat.” replied ll and trotted off.

Sheila yanked up memories of llamas being interested in battle, not because of glory and fame, but because of the hidden beauty of it, the complexity. The stuff behind it. “Jeff… Isla and Barbra, hmmmm… and Bella.” Sheila thought.”I’ll go find them.” So, off she went to go find them. When she did, they were excited.

It was the next day when Sheila, Jeff, Isla, Bella an...

“Who is he to complain? He didn’t just risk his life for a few maps and a look at a few small ‘battalions’.” Sheila thought. “Both of them, in fact. It wasn’t either of them. It was me. I am the amazingly beautiful one; the one so glamorous and gorgeous…” her thought trailed off there. Why was she being arrogant, self-absorbed, and worst of all rude. “Why why why? What was it that had made her… like that. It was just so bad, so terrible, and so rude. So what had made her like that? Sheila knew that nobody was perfect and she always tried to be the best that she could. “Best just to keep it to myself and forget about it. There are more important things to worry about. War or at least a battle is going to happen. We need a force of our own.” she thought...

Don’t lay me in some gloomy churchyard shaded by a wall,

Where the dust of ancient bones has spread a dryness over all,

Lay me in some leafy loam where, sheltered from the cold,

Little seeds investigate and tender leaves unfold.

There kindly and affectionately, plant a native tree,

To grow resplendent before God and hold some part of me.

The roots will not disturb me they wend their peaceful way,

To build the fine and the bountiful, from closure and decay.

To seek their small requirements so that when their work is done,

I’ll be tall and standing strongly in the beauty of the sun.

By Pam Ayres.

Tuesday 16th June

I woke up this morning and crashed through the roof. Things were flying all around me. “What the?” I thought.“ What happened over night? Whatever happened, I need to stay calm.” I seized hold of a passing bird and clung on to it for dear life. However, it was life. I would of floated up, up, up into space if that bird didn’t come by. Bumping into objects, people, things and even some houses, the bird soared through the air. I tried to hold on to anyone or any objects I recognised as mine. Time after time I missed. I caught hold of was a person. It was my friend Bella! “ Hi!” I screeched over all the noise...

She had resided at Raven Cliff Crag for hundreds of years, perfecting her art, honing her skills.

Her concoctions bubbled and frothed in front of her; she let out a hearty laugh. “Not long now” she muttered under her breath. Her creation was almost complete…

(Above is the story starter from the website)

The concoction bubbled furiously. It was The Potion of Death. Whoever drank it, the first person they looked at was infected with the potion. Then they (the drinker and infected)  looked at people and they dropped down dead. Just like that. “2 minutes… nearly ready.” she hissed. “Done!” Beatrice shrieked as she transferred it to a bottle. This was the only potion that needed watching else it would burn (and the antidote). One second late, and it would fail...

STRIKES BACK!!

“Who is he to complain? He didn’t just risk his life for a few maps and a look at a few small ‘battalions’.” Sheila thought. “Both of them, in fact. It wasn’t either of them. It was me. I am the amazingly beautiful one; the one so glamorous and gorgeous…” her thought trailed off there. Why was she being arrogant, self-absorbed, and worst of all rude. “Why why why? What was it that had made her… like that. It was just so bad, so terrible, and so rude. So what had made her like that? Sheila knew that nobody was perfect and she always tried to be the best that she could. “Best just to keep it to myself and forget about it. There are more important things to worry about. War or at least a battle is going to happen. We need a force of our own...