Yes, that sentence was intentionally ambiguous. You can imagine me as the guy or as the person ignoring the guy. Same difference. I don't mean to sound belligerant but at some point you just gotta commit, ya know? I mean, it's only been five years since I started this project.
My query is also up for bashing at The Quintessentially Questionable Querying Experiment. So pop over and read it. That I am totally open to suggestions on.
Chapter One
Moonlight cast blue shadows on the snow, turning the drifts across the pasture into waves on a silent sea. Captain Faldur Relaszen of the king’s rangers crouched in the lee of the south wall of the barn. Deep scratches scarred the door from the lion’s last attempt to get inside.The sheep jostled together inside for warmth. First one, then another, bleated softly.
It won’t come back tonight. Faldur turned and looked toward the smokehouse where his lieutenant, Harth Romer, stood guard as well. Behind that stood the stone farmhouse, its windows dark, the family gone for the night.
He turned his gaze back to the pasture. A black shape slunk along the treeline, picking the easiest path through the snow. It had come after all. He raised his bow, nocked an arrow on the string and drew it back, letting his breath out slowly. As the lion came into the barnyard he saw it was a female, the points of her ears intact, too young to have been in the war. He breathed a faint sigh of relief. It wasn’t a nightstalker.
The lioness stopped and raised her head, sniffing the air. Faldur hesitated, hating to kill her. She darted with fluid grace back to the cover of the trees. He lowered his bow. I’m getting soft.
Harth sprinted through the snow to his side and hissed, “Why didn’t you take it?”
Where did you say you'd put your fingers?
ReplyDeleteA black shape slunk along the treeline, picking the easiest path through the snow. It had come after all. Captain Faldur Relaszen of the king’s rangers crouched in the lee of the barn. Deep scratches scarred the door from the lion’s last attack. He raised his bow, nocked an arrow on the string and drew it back.
The lion prowled closer. Moonlight lit the points of her ears. A female. She was too young to have been in the war.
Faldur released his breath as a faint sigh. This wasn’t a nightstalker. He hesitated.
The lioness stopped and raised her head, sniffing the air.
The arrow felt heavy??....
She darted with fluid grace back to the cover of the trees.
Faldur lowered his bow. I’m getting soft.
Harth sprinted through the snow to his side and hissed, “Why didn’t you take it?”
Very nice. The act of not shooting the lion tells us quite a bit about Faldur.
ReplyDeleteHi Christine, new follower from Matt's blog. Enjoyed reading your query today.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Elaine, Johanna and Jeff! I love it when people stop by. And new followers are always wonderful.
ReplyDeleteHave a great weekend!
Christine
Takes a lot of courage to put up your first page...all the best with the book!
ReplyDelete---Damyanti, Co-host A to Z Challenge April 2012
Twitter: @AprilA2Z
#atozchallenge
Beautiful scene. I felt I was there immediately.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Damyanti and Madeleine!
ReplyDelete