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Entry tags:
Nanowrimo, Night 8
Word Count: 14,105
Writing Sample:
“Sorry does not slow my heart, nor mend my cloak.” The boy growled, his voice gruff beyond his age. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest. Then, as if suddenly he noticed her companion for the first time, his eyes grew wide. The arrow, her trespass, was suddenly quite forgotten. The boy had eyes for Mosni, only, his fingers sliding bonelessly from their roosts in the crooks of his elbows.
Writing Sample:
“Sorry does not slow my heart, nor mend my cloak.” The boy growled, his voice gruff beyond his age. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest. Then, as if suddenly he noticed her companion for the first time, his eyes grew wide. The arrow, her trespass, was suddenly quite forgotten. The boy had eyes for Mosni, only, his fingers sliding bonelessly from their roosts in the crooks of his elbows.