posted on Wednesday
Call it an experiment. Little bits from the books. But I admit it: the ego is fragile. And I do watch the numbers. So if it turns out that the Grand Snippeting Experiment isn’t truly of interest in the long run…well, you’ll know why you aren’t seeing them any longer!
From the first chapter of The Reckoners….
Sklayne stretched his awareness into their new location, sheltered by an unfamiliar spreading bush. ::green sharp smells, twittering dry feathers, hard glossy beetle–:: A satisfying crunch and swallow, beetle no more. “Think cat,” Trevarr said, his tension battering at Sklayne’s edges.
Sklayne knew cat. Sklayne had done cat in the darkness not long ago. Sleek reddish feline, leggy and much with the ears. Sklayne held his mind still, pushed; he expanded to encompass everything and anything before abruptly shrinking back to the cat shape. Now…vision of washed-out colors with sharp edges up close, fuzzy edges across this green expanse of manicured growth. Scents just as sharp, just as stingingly dry–and the recently consumed beetle had left its own aura. A prominent needled branch caught Sklayne’s attention; he sniffed, then delicately rubbed his face against it even as it bent out of his way. “Mrow,” he said, an experiment.
“Very convincing.” Trevarr stood tall beside him, shaded beneath a pampered cottonwood, squinting into the too-bright sunshine of this place even through his newly acquired sunglasses. Trevarr in disgrace. Looked much like Trevarr not in disgrace, but felt…
Tension. Guilt. Determination.
Trevarr ignored the brush of Sklayne’s thoughts. “Now behave yourself, and let’s go deal with this.”
“Mrrp,” Sklayne said, and liked that one even better. He found their target–not very large, not in the least aware of them. Sitting on a curvy wooden bench in the shade, bent over a printed binding. ::Get herrrr,:: he added.
It sounded like a purr.