White-Feather

Squished under the Emperor's seat, Mari stared through the gaps of the carriage's belly. First there'd been cobblestones. Now the terrain flattened to dusty pavement and petroleum mortar flying beneath. Inside the cramped space, the air was stifling, and the smell of apples cloyed every breath. Knowing he was riding escort alongside the entourage outside didn't help the nausea turning her stomach. Even if I could run, I've no idea where we are or going... It wasn't back eastwards. That was the only certainty in her mind. The road looked wrong, and she felt they were heading uphill. And the heat of the rising sun penetrating her compartment was coming from ahead, not behind. Squinting through the dust and sand-grit kicked up, the pavement now almost looked...new. Until the ride bumped down and her limited sight was replaced by bare rock and packed dust. Above her, seated comfortably in the carriage proper, the two men voiced their startlement at the surprise jolt. “Damn it. You'd

“Don't they never sleep? I could swear, this lot's been 'oundin' us since Short Street.” Crevan gagged in sotto voce as they crouched in the alley. A set of oversized trash bins, a stack of goods crates, and a stranded tarp were their only cover from view. Underfoot, the tacky grime emanated pungent fumes Tobias didn't want to muse on the source of. He was only glad that he'd kept hold of his shoes. Crevan flat-out refused to put a paw on the ground. Instead, he crouched awkwardly across Sarahna's shoulders. They in turn squatted across from each other facing the entry way. Beyond them, out in the morning light, a pair of the Guard stabbed pikes into the shapeless trash mounds congealed near the entrance. While they almost bent double to lean in, neither man seemed willing to set foot in themselves. He couldn't blame their reluctance, even he found the nausea hard to swallow. Foul as it was, Tobias was glad they'd opted to hide beyond the soldier's extended reach. After running and

The cold breeze's nip was what finally stirred her. Mari blinked her eyes open to ambient grey filtering through the window. In the streets below, the sounds of the new day clopped and muttered to life. Beyond the door, boots and voices seemed little changed from when she'd fallen asleep. Mari stretched stiff limbs as she rolled into the mattress's dip, molded for someone larger than herself. Sometime during the night, she'd rolled the blankets around her and was wrapped in a cocoon of warm bliss. Burying her face into the silken pillow, the hint of smoke and dark spices teased her nose. The beguiling smell should have lulled her back to a cozy rest as she breathed it in. But for some reason, her anxiety prickled and kept her from drifting now that she was aware of the scent. It's almost... familiar. Could swear I've smelled it before...but where? Flipping over onto her back, Mari rubbed the sand from her eyes as she made herself sit up. The predawn air drew gooseflesh on her

How does it make your Story and Characters Better? One thing in my writing that I'm an admitted fan of (and also prefer as a reader) is applying the technique known as "interior experience" when writing from a character's point of view. Also known as "inner thinking" or the "interior monologue/dialogue", this literary device is quite common. So, I though it worth explaining a bit about it, what it is, what it achieves, and why it is a worthwhile tool for a writer to consider. So, what is interior monologue? Generally speaking, when it comes to creative writing/storytelling, interior monologue is a narrative technique exhibiting the thoughts and perspectives passing through the mind of the point-of-view character, usually the protagonist/s. This technique can be used in both first and third person writing and is usually distinguished from regular narrative or spoken dialogue by italics. The ideas presented in this form may be loose impressions close to free association or structured

“It seems odd that they didn't tell us they were leaving.” Mari remarked, resting her elbows on the ledge. “Especially Crevan. What if something happened to them?” “I wouldn't worry about either. Crevan's got his nose to stay on the watch, and Sarahna's not foolish enough to go into an alley or anywhere else off-course. They probably went back to the inn. Straight walk on a lit boulevard. Hard to lose their way. Bright and public as it is, I don't see how much trouble they could get into.” “What if they're not? Suppose they still got lost?” Tobias seemed to think it over, his gaze fixed on the illuminated rooftops. Below them, the streets had quieted down to pleasant tranquility. But strolling pairs still passed by, their murmured conversations reaching upwards. “Then I'll go search the city myself. Even if it takes all night.” “And what? I just sit and wait the whole time?” She meant it as a half joke. But his reply was firm. “Yes. That would be a superb idea. To watch for if

“So even if we had an inside source helping us. Which we don't. There's no chance of getting anyone out until the extra guards around the prison go away.” Sarahna framed it as a statement, but Mari heard the hopeful question underneath. “That's right. Place is locked tight as a turtle's shell.” Tobias sighed through the door to their room. “Don't know yet what went down to bring them to close ranks up there. But whoever it was, is an asshole with poor timing.” “No.” Mari paced and rubbed the walnut stain lingering on her arms. A swift dunk in a lukewarm washtub had removed the city grime, but little else. “They're what comes out of an arsehole! Damn it! We don't know how long those ranks will be there and-” A splash from the tub cut her off with a splutter. “Chill. It's a challenge, not a defeat.” Sarahna said, rising and wrapping herself when Mari tossed the towel to her. “We've time to plan it over. Preferably while eating. Which by the way, would you finish up getting dressed?