Been writing Corthan Legacy Book 2. Here’s a little bit of excitement from last weeks’ drafts. Remember this is unedited, may have typos or grammar sins, and is subject to change before the final product….
A scream shattered the night. It wasn’t human. Gar lunged to his feet and let out a roar that echoed off the hillsides. The Huntress leapt up and clamped her hands over his mouth afraid he’d draw their enemies to them.
Kicking dirt over the fire, she listened to the night.
Another howl rent the air and this time she could feel Gar’s anguish at the sound of such terrible pain. She looked over at her charges to find that both children were sitting up. Ruari had his head tucked between his knees with his hands over his ears, sobbing. Regan clutched at his shirt and whimpered fearfully.
“What is that?” Falin asked.
He shook his head and beat at his ears with his hands.
Falin grabbed his shoulders and with a brisk shake asked him again.
“They had a bad hunt,” he whined. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
“But that’s a bear.”
“They keep the ones they find. In cages near the hall,” Ruari said. “And when they need meat..” He couldn’t speak the thought.
“…they kill ’em,” Regan finished for him.
At the girl’s blunt words, Ruari covered his head with his arms and rocked back and forth, as if trying to blot out the horrible cries that echoed off the hills. As another scream sounded, Gar whined in answer. Falin put a hand to the wide furry head to calm him and found a grief in his animal soul that was so close to her own it broke her. She had borne enough and this new insult left her nerves raw and her heart angry.
She had come to consider Gar family. To hear a creature like him suffer was an injustice she simply could not tolerate. She turned to Regan since Ruari was beyond reason and pointed her finger threateningly. “You two stay right here, do you understand?”
The girl nodded wide-eyed and serious.
“I’m not fooling,” she snarled.
The girl shook her head vigorously.
Then Falin slung her bow and quiver onto her back, scooped up her scabbard and blade, and tucked the dagger in her boot. Every cry of despair was like a dagger to her gut. And it wasn’t just Cara’s sentimentality that itched beneath her skin. She’d always been a hunter; but this wasn’t hunting, it was sacrilege. These creatures were trained to trust, to be partners. She thought of Gar down there and her anger boiled over. She set off toward the sounds at a run and Gar charged after her.