White Fang Imagery

  1. He was a rage himself-a sane rage. His gray eyes seemed metallic and steel-like as they flashed upon the crowd. Beauty Smith regained his feet and came toward him, sniffling and cowardly. The newcomer did not understand. He did not know how abject a coward the other was and thought he was coming back intent on fighting. So, with a “You beast!” he smashed Beauty Smith over backward with a second blow to the face. (Chapter 18, Page 219, Paragraph 2)

  1. He sprang upon White Fang and began to savagely kick him. There were hisses from the crowd and cries of protest, but that was all. While this went on, and Beauty Smith continued to kick White Fang, there was a commotion in the crowd. The tall young newcomer was forcing his way through, shouldering men right and left without ceremony or gentleness. When he broke into the ring, Beauty Smith was just in the act of delivering another kick. All his weight was on one foot, and he was in a state of unstable equilibrium. At that moment the newcomer’s fist landed a smashing blow full in his face. (Chapter 18, Page 219, Paragraph 1)

  1. The dog musher wore a mustache, but the other, a taller younger man, was smooth shaven, his skin rosy from the pounding of this blood and the running in the frosty air. (Chapter 18, Page 218, Paragraph 1)

  1. The men outside shouted and applauded, while Beauty Smith, in an ecstasy of delight, gloated over the ripping and mangling performed by White Fang. There was no hope for the mastiff from the first. He was too ponderous and slow. In the end, while Beauty Smith beat White Fang back with a club, the mastiff was dragged out by its owner. Then there was a payment of bets, and money clinked in Beauty Smith’s hand. (Chapter 17, Page 203, Paragraph 2)

  1. He was magnificently terrible. Fully five feet in length, and standing two and one-half feet at the shoulder, he far outweighed a wolf of corresponding size. From his mother he had inherited the heavier proportions of a dog, so that he weighed, without any fat and without an ounce of superfluous flesh, over ninety pounds. It was all muscle, bone, and sinew-fighting flesh in the finest condition. (Chapter 17, Page 202, Paragraph 2)

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2 years ago
0

i thought i would return the favor

2 years ago
0

dun dun dun

2 years ago
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2 years ago
0

i liked this imagry of yours "smooth shaven, his skin rosy from the pounding of this blood and the running in the frosty air." i thought it was a good choice

2 years ago
0

good choices of imagery! awesome tack!

2 years ago
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2 years ago
0

me when i saw your tackk^^^

2 years ago
0

"Cry of admiration"- Wonderful Quote!

2 years ago
0

come to the dark side

2 years ago
0

you did great great!