Some crappy freewriting

I spent my 750 Words session for the day free-writing a character that popped into my head about ten minutes before I started writing. The idea was to write some patches of things for her and her companions, but I don’t know if I’ll actually do that after this. I ended up liking the dynamic between the two characters, but it’s not really anything new. Nothing wrong with that, I guess.


Raising a hand to shade her eyes from the setting sun, Samora squinted into the northwest. “I don’t see what you’re getting so worked up about,” she said, her reedy voice light.

Much about her was soft. Supple curves that might have yielded to an incredibly brave hand, rich brown hair that shone in the right light and when soap and water were plentiful. She was muscular, but in the same way as a selkie. Her less womanly lumps were evenly distributed throughout her body.

She tended to stand to the best of her advantage out of of habit. Rook could not have been further from impressed. Very little impressed Rook.

His downy black hair was too short to move, even as the breeze picked up, showing an inclination towards becoming a proper wind. Rook’s square jaw was set in a determined yet somehow neutral expression. Samora didn’t bother to ask him what he was thinking, or if he had even heard her.

A moment later, he surprised her by answering. He lifted a large hand and pointed in the same direction they were already facing. “That’s why,” he said, his voice booming softly, like shy thunder.

There was a phrase to describe her friend, Samora thought to herself as she tried to understand what he meant. Shy thunder.

After a moment, she dropped her hand and turned on her heel, as if to return to the forest. “It isn’t there, Rook.”

“It is. You just aren’t looking right.”

“How can there be anything you can see that I can’t?”

She looked back at him in time to see his shrug and bewildered expression. “Maybe you’re just tired,” he offered.

Not to be outdone by a paladin of all people, Samora strode back to the cliff’s edge and glared past the blinding effects of the horizon. A moment later, she let out a small sigh. Smoke curled up from yet another forest. Everywhere they went these days there were forests. This one that they had just left ended at the cliff.

“All right,” she said with a sigh. “We’re on the right track then. Now how do you suppose we get down?”

“I thought climbing was your thing.”

“It is. But how will both of us get down there? You’re not exactly light enough for me to carry.”

He grinned, showing off straight teeth that she often imagined punching out. No man should be that clean after a trek through a forest. Any forest. She felt anew the sweat and fatigue of travel, and began to dislike her companion.

“You go ahead. I’ll find a way down.”

Shrugging, she did just that. If he didn’t make it, then she would just go on to find the town by herself. She needed a bath and he was not going to get in the way of that.


One thought on “Some crappy freewriting

  1. Pingback: Freewriting Friday (9/7) | Very Novel

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