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littlemanpoet · 01-31-2006, 07:08 PM

The big man called Stamo came in from outside. He took his friend Mori aside and whispered, reckoning not quite aright that they were out of hearing, for Wenda's ears were uncommonly sharp; but not so sharp as to catch every word. 'strays ...' whispered Stamo. '... loosed ... north ... prisons ... kept ... Not ... wight either ...' Mori hissed back, 'strong body ... uses ...' Then Mori turned a little and nodded at Wenda meaningfully; Wenda was careful not to show that she more than caught his look out of the corner of her eye. ‘ ... she ... just ... prize ... seeking.’

Wenda's eyes widened. There was no mistaking his meaning. The thing was after her! She was not sure what the quiet thing was, wraith or worse. Whatever it was, it was the worst thing she'd ever come across in all her days, few as they were. Ravenous wolfpacks hungry for her two reindeer, Pada and Muna, she could outwit and outrace. This was beyond her. The being was beyond all the others here as well!

"I need to go from here," she murmured.

"Stay here," said Mara. "You are safe here."

Wenda turned on her, wide eyed with terror. "No one is safe here! I must leave! It seeks me! Not any of you, but if I stay, you are doomed too!"

"Hush! Hush! Do not say such things!" Mara soothed. "We will find a way."

Wenda subsided and stared into the fire. Stamo came over and exchanged pleasantries with Goody, then made to add his staff to the fire. He murmured some words, tapped the log thrice; the fire was hungry for it, or so it seemed. Then he withdrew his staff; Wenda expected the blaze to calm, but it did not. That staff. Wenda looked at Stamo again. Did her eyes see aright? Was that staff not charred, where he had put it in the fire?

Wenda thanked him for setting the blaze higher, and watched him a while.

Then she noticed the boy sitting by his dog, staring at her wide-eyed with fear. He put his arms about the dog's neck. ‘It’ll be alright, won’t it, boy?’

Wenda's heart went out to him. She thought a moment: Bergir was his name. It was not good that the boy should fear so. She wished it were otherwise, and that maybe she could allay his fear. She smiled.

"How is your dog called, Bergir lad?"

"White Paw, ma'am."

"A good name and a beautiful dog," she smiled. "Would you sit closer to the fire, you and white Paw? I would be glad of your company, and maybe you of the warmth?"

01-31-2006, 07:08 PM	#76
littlemanpoet Itinerant Songster Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: The Edge of Faerie Posts: 7,066	The big man called Stamo came in from outside. He took his friend Mori aside and whispered, reckoning not quite aright that they were out of hearing, for Wenda's ears were uncommonly sharp; but not so sharp as to catch every word. 'strays ...' whispered Stamo. '... loosed ... north ... prisons ... kept ... Not ... wight either ...' Mori hissed back, 'strong body ... uses ...' Then Mori turned a little and nodded at Wenda meaningfully; Wenda was careful not to show that she more than caught his look out of the corner of her eye. ‘ ... she ... just ... prize ... seeking.’ Wenda's eyes widened. There was no mistaking his meaning. The thing was after her! She was not sure what the quiet thing was, wraith or worse. Whatever it was, it was the worst thing she'd ever come across in all her days, few as they were. Ravenous wolfpacks hungry for her two reindeer, Pada and Muna, she could outwit and outrace. This was beyond her. The being was beyond all the others here as well! "I need to go from here," she murmured. "Stay here," said Mara. "You are safe here." Wenda turned on her, wide eyed with terror. "No one is safe here! I must leave! It seeks me! Not any of you, but if I stay, you are doomed too!" "Hush! Hush! Do not say such things!" Mara soothed. "We will find a way." Wenda subsided and stared into the fire. Stamo came over and exchanged pleasantries with Goody, then made to add his staff to the fire. He murmured some words, tapped the log thrice; the fire was hungry for it, or so it seemed. Then he withdrew his staff; Wenda expected the blaze to calm, but it did not. That staff. Wenda looked at Stamo again. Did her eyes see aright? Was that staff not charred, where he had put it in the fire? Wenda thanked him for setting the blaze higher, and watched him a while. Then she noticed the boy sitting by his dog, staring at her wide-eyed with fear. He put his arms about the dog's neck. ‘It’ll be alright, won’t it, boy?’ Wenda's heart went out to him. She thought a moment: Bergir was his name. It was not good that the boy should fear so. She wished it were otherwise, and that maybe she could allay his fear. She smiled. "How is your dog called, Bergir lad?" "White Paw, ma'am." "A good name and a beautiful dog," she smiled. "Would you sit closer to the fire, you and white Paw? I would be glad of your company, and maybe you of the warmth?"