An excerpt from Awakening [renamed The Sword of Isyndral] – a wip fantasy novella or novel (it hasn’t decided yet how long it wants to be). Last week we saw Tayril’s hunting party arrive in his home village. These eight sentences follow last week’s post:
Cook Dendri’s wave caught Tayril’s eye. In response, he sent those bearing the slaughtered game, off toward the kitchens. Tanners slipped through the crowd behind them, anxious to claim the deer skins. The hides would be transformed into footwear or quivers. With the news he brought, both would be in high demand.
“Looks like one of us will be missing some sleep this evening,” Yonlorein, Tayril’s second, warned with a nod at Glenneth-Kor, the blue-stone council building whose size dominated the square.
“See to the men, Yonnie.” Tayril sighed and combed fingers through his short-cropped hair. “Make sure they’re left in peace to rest. If they are half as tired as I am, they’re in sore need of a Healer, food and their beds.”
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