Well, well, well! Welcome to wonderful WIPpet Wednesday, where we wish to… not bother you with nutty alliterations. Not familiar with the rules? Just post a passage from your progressively perfecting… wonderful writing… arrgh!
Seventeen lines (on my new, wider computer screen– whee!) from chapter 5, so much earlier in the story than some of the others I’ve posted. For those just joining us, Aquila is a rather unusual eagle.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to continue re-writes. Those horses ain’t going to steal themselves…
I was still asleep early on my fourth day at Stone Ridge when someone slammed open the door to my rooms, thundered across the wood floor into my bedroom and sailed through the air, landing on top of me with a loud cry of, “get up, get up, get up!”
I grabbed the heavy feather pillow from under my head and used it to whack the intruder several times before she shrieked and bounced back onto the floor. I groaned when she ripped the blankets off of the bed and flopped down beside me, out of breath and laughing. “Come on, sleepyface,” she said, grinning. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
I glared at my cousin and tried to look angry. “’Lecia, I wouldn’t be happy to see Prince Charming himself if he woke me up by jumping on me.”
Felicia considered that for a moment, then started giggling. “That might not be so bad, you know.”
“Filth,” I muttered, and grinned back at her. That was the problem with Felicia; she was always so damned happy and funny that I couldn’t stay mad at her, even when I wanted to.
She rolled over and stared at me with a mock-serious expression. “We have much to discuss. But first, get thine self to a washing chamber and clean thy teeth. Thou art offending my delicate sensibilities.”
“Says the girl who smells like the horse that brought here here,” I replied, and rolled out of bed before she could smack me. I hurried through the sitting room, but saw no sign of Aquila. I couldn’t blame him for disappearing when that strange, noisy person burst in. I leaned out the window and came face-to-beak with him sitting in the cherry tree. “Sorry,” I whispered. He didn’t look impressed.
Felicia was looking at the books on my shelf when I returned. She took a seat in an armchair with her legs crossed under her, and I sat on the floor with my back to her. “I met Robert,” I said. “He seems nice.”
“I know. I’m not here to talk about him. Yet.” Felicia pulled a brush out of her bag and went to work on my hair. She’d treated me like a doll since the first time she came to visit me at Stone Ridge, and I almost never complained. It was relaxing.
“I thought not.” I’d known as soon as I saw her why she was there. I might have temporarily forgotten about the letters, but my mother hadn’t. She’d sent someone to remind me.