Afternoon, gang! Today we’re taking a break from the A to Z challenge and, since it’s been a donkey’s age since I’ve posted one, I’m giving you a six-sentence Sunday from a current WIP instead. And by six sentences, I mean roughly six, maybe a couple more. Work with me here.
Whether or not you enjoy it at all is entirely debatable. Just don’t leave me with any lasting injuries.
At the mention of the Unseelie King’s name Roisin shuddered convulsively and turned towards them, her eyes shining in the moonlight but not revealing who she looked at until she spoke. “I don’t know how you stand it,” she said brokenly.
“If you don’t,” Nora said flatly, bones and tendons stark against her clenched fist by her side, “that’s when you go mad.”
Cass stepped forward–at thirteen Roisin wasn’t yet taller than she was–and enfolded the girl in her arms for a fierce, lasting hug. “That’s how,” she said huskily.
When the girl began to cry in earnest, her father picked her up and carried her the remainder of the way, cradling her as though she were still small. Keenan walked between his parents, close to his siblings, and was silent.