WeWriWa/Snippet Sunday 09/29/2013 #snippetsunday #8sunday
Wish this week’s had a decent stopping point, but it sort of cuts off at eight sentences in the middle of a thought…
Sir Lionel didn’t know what to think of the boy, and when the girl named Amara slipped from the shadows to step behind David and wrap him in the protection of her arms, he lost all ability to think entirely. She was no girl at all. She was a woman, as dirty as the boy, dressed in rags, but holding a nobility in her spine royalty would be jealous of. A passing wish that she was widowed so he could woo her shamed him, further tearing at his so called honor when he glimpsed her eyes.
While the boy was bright eyed and happy, Amara’s eyes held a coldness, resilience and resignation he’d only seen in the aftermath of bloodbaths. As a knight, he’d seen many a battle. He was no stranger to the pain it caused the survivors. He’d passed through villages where buildings burned, orphaned toddlers cried morosely in the streets, clutching desperately to decapitated dolls.
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