Young Adult Fiction Narration
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
The trees have been stripped by recent wind of their white, covering a frost, and they seem to lean towards each other black, an ominous in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless without movement, so alone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness. There was a hint in it, of laughter, but of a laughter more terrible than any sadness. A laughter that was mirthless is the smile of the sphinx, a laughter, colds, the frost and partaking of the grimness of infallibility. It was the masterful in in communicable wisdom of eternity, laughing at the futility of life in the effort of life. It was the wild, the savage, frozen hearted Northland wild. But that was life broad in the land and defiant. Down the frozen waterway toiled a string of wolfish dogs. Their bristly fur was rimmed with frost. Their breath froze in the areas they left their mouths spouting forth in spew mes of vapour that settled upon the hair of their bodies and formed and crystals of frost. Leather harness was on the dogs and leather traces attached them to a sled, which dragged along behind the sled was without runners. It was made of stout birch bark, and if it's full surface rested on the snow. The front end of the slab was turned up like a scroll in order to force down and under the bore of soft snow that surged like a wave before it. On the sled, securely latched was a long and narrow oblong box. There were other things on the sled, blankets and acts, and a coffee pot and a frying pan. But prominent, occupying most of this space was the long and narrow oblong box in advance of the dogs. On wide snowshoes toiled. A man at the rear of the sled toiled a second man on the sled. In the box lay 1/3 man whose toil was over, a man whom the Wild had conquered and beaten down until he would never move nor struggle again. It is not the way of the wild like movement. Life is an offence to it, for life is movement, and the wild aims always to destroy movement. It freezes the water to prevent it running to the scene. It drives the sap out of the trees till they're frozen to them. Mighty hearts and most ferociously and terribly of all, does the wild Harry and crash into submission man man who is the most restless of life ever and revolt against the dictum that all movement must in the end come to the cessation off movement.