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hess_makes...it needs a name still. We're planning to follow up on The Planar Pest (which could use a better name) but, frankly, the outlining necessary to keep track of all the things we spat out while NaNo'ing is scary. This one has the benefit of notetaking from the very start and is set in the same 'verse.
There was light.
That meant it was afternoon. The window shades were barely fit to call that; they kept out prying eyes more than they kept out light. The lowering of the sun in the sky meant that Iulia could put out some of her lamps, at least. It reduced the chance that a lamp would tip over and start a fire if the carriage hit a bump.
Could she call it a carriage? If so, barely. She'd never concerned herself with such things...before. Her family wasn't quite wealthy but she had enough to need no employment as common labor. Once she'd finished University, she could have had any young man she'd wanted and she would be knitting for charity in a genteel sitting room, probably somewhere near the Great City. Instead, she was in some bumping, moving thing of rough wood, avoiding civilization.
Afternoon meant they'd be at their new home soon - home always said or thought in a jeering tone of voice, as was now the norm. Home never lasted more than a few weeks, except that this time she'd caught the others whispering that this one might do the trick.
Given the places they'd been since Hofstadhir burned, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stand staying put. She wouldn't even be on this blasted world if not for deciding to have a little fun with someone exotic.
And there was Hrafen's voice, as if she'd summoned him. She couldn't hear what he was saying so well but he was probably using his own language anyway. The one that made her feel dizzy when she even tried to follow it.
By Machina, she wanted to be back in the City.
There was light.
That meant it was afternoon. The window shades were barely fit to call that; they kept out prying eyes more than they kept out light. The lowering of the sun in the sky meant that Iulia could put out some of her lamps, at least. It reduced the chance that a lamp would tip over and start a fire if the carriage hit a bump.
Could she call it a carriage? If so, barely. She'd never concerned herself with such things...before. Her family wasn't quite wealthy but she had enough to need no employment as common labor. Once she'd finished University, she could have had any young man she'd wanted and she would be knitting for charity in a genteel sitting room, probably somewhere near the Great City. Instead, she was in some bumping, moving thing of rough wood, avoiding civilization.
Afternoon meant they'd be at their new home soon - home always said or thought in a jeering tone of voice, as was now the norm. Home never lasted more than a few weeks, except that this time she'd caught the others whispering that this one might do the trick.
Given the places they'd been since Hofstadhir burned, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stand staying put. She wouldn't even be on this blasted world if not for deciding to have a little fun with someone exotic.
And there was Hrafen's voice, as if she'd summoned him. She couldn't hear what he was saying so well but he was probably using his own language anyway. The one that made her feel dizzy when she even tried to follow it.
By Machina, she wanted to be back in the City.
