NovDoodle Arthur

November Doodle

My CLmooc friends doodle every day. During November, my doodles will usually be from the writing for National Novel Writing Month: NaNoWriMo.

This year, my story So Says the River continues as the characters search for the dragons that help keep the balance among the many worlds. A new sighting and event had occurred, but what does it mean?

Excerpt:

“Yes,” she remembered her first glimpse at Arthur. “I found him in our gathering at our Salon; he seemed to be counting the wall tiles and notating them on his d-pad. I had thought he was younger as I looked at him from the back— his loose and longer hair cut typical of younger boys, but he was also wearing a green tunic over darker green slacks, similar to what my father sometimes wore when officiating at counsel business. When he’d turned around – now I wonder—did he sense me looking? He certainly turned directly towards me. He waved and tucked the loose locks behind his ears, the left one pierced with a single blue sapphire. His blue eyes, large and inviting, pierced my thoughts, and I’d looked away, embarrassed at mistaking the young man’s age and hesitant to connect with the handsome and unknown young man who seemed to be on a special mission, an envoy from another city, perhaps?”

She paused to consider that first meeting and added, “The tweed of Arthur’s tunic, with side and front pockets, carried an aura within it, a shimmer of something more than cloth. It reminded me of when my father rushed out late at night for a hurried counsel meeting at the time of the earth shake. I’d sensed danger, but he just pointed to his tunic and said, ‘I’ve the protection of the Innes wee folk within here— look. Do you see it?’ And when I examined father’s sleeve, I sensed an ebb and flow along the threads, a lighter green stream barely seen of something not of the cloth, but of the weaver. And father agreed, acknowledging my thoughts, explaining ‘A gift from my grandmother from her grandfather woven during times long ago.’ I remember hugging father then, fingering the weave and understanding that within was something connected only to him, but reassuring me.”

She looked up at Grandma Rose, “Arthur’s tweed has the same otherness, a weave of thread and wee.”

Excerpt From
So Says the River E2 /So Says the Dragon
Sheri Edwards
This material is protected by copyright.
11.07.21

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