Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It’s hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys! She‘s our fearless shepherd…or something like that, anyway…
This week, I’m sharing more from Foul Deeds Will Rise, and hoping my increasingly capricious power adapter will hold out until the replacements get here later in the week…so, in order to conserve what may be very limited battery power, I’m keeping this short and perhaps sweet.
Shentaa has recently given birth, and this is the first time she’s been separated from her infant son, Osiru…
WIPpet Non- Math:
Today isn’t August 19, 2015 – but this is the snippet I would have shared then, if I hadn’t shared A Pet Name?
- So I’m being a rebel this week – or I’m time-traveling. You get to decide. =)
Preying Upon Her
Shentaa was alone, Running.
There had seldom in her life been a time when she was alone, and she hadn’t known, until a fiveday past, how much she enjoyed and was affrighted by it, together.
Mayhap it was that, though she was alone, she was not, in the same breath, nor would she ever be, now.
Once, she had thought her ties with the child called Vaara were the strongest bonds she would ever know, and, before the child, she’d thought it either her Pack, or her family and friends in the Seers’ Keep.
Then had come Solemating, and then, borne of that, Osiru…
It was the deepest thing of all, she thought now, to harbor a child within her own body, to grow it from her Solemate’s seed and her own egg, his blood, her Line….
They had created a new life, and now, she would ever be bound by it. By her son.
But, as much as she could be alone, in this breath, she was. Osiru was with his Huntmother; he was young for the first parting, but Trueborn. What had been denied to Vaara by their imprisonment, she was most determined would not be denied their child, even if he yet had no Tribed name. He would take his Huntmother’s milk as well as his mother’s, sleep in her embrace, be shown by her his first tiny sniffs and tastes of the Wolvenkeep’s life.
Truth, though – he was still with her, preying upon her mind and her heart…
How was it that a being so small in size could be so stealthy a Hunter, when all he had Hunted till now was her milk and his own baby rousal?
Shentaa knew not; knew only that it was so.
He Hunted her, and he would take her. She was his mother, and that made her his own.
But she would yet Run. He would be with Larys until dawning; that’s what they’d agreed upon, and she wouldn’t be the one to undo this most important matter, simply so that she could lay with him, suckle him, and breathe him in – truth, though, that is all she would Hunt, on the morrow.
Will all go well for Osiru’s first day with his Huntmother?
Will Shentaa be able to stay away?
What will she do with her time?
I’ll be posting the next ten lines from this scene for #8sunday, if you’d like to find out what’s next.