Once again, I’m doubling up on my share of writing this week. Twice the prompts, twice the words. That’s my new motton. Today, it’s **DOUBLE** (#1lineWed) and “I did my share.” (#ThursdayThreads) Warning, this scene is totally a first–and VERY rough–draft and totally needs a lot more work and a lont more details for it to make total sense but at the moment, I’m just happy to get new words down for CROSSFIRE while I’m also revising UNDER THE ASSASSIN’S MOON. Priorities, don’cha know. This scene takes place after last week’s scene. Sort of. Hopefully, you don’t get too lost and makes some semblance of sense.
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Meg was on a mission. Kin avoided her all day and she was sick and tired of whatever stick he had up his arse. It wasn’t her fault she’d been stalked by a wolf and had to be rescued by Duke and Loch. So what if Kin wasn’t the run to ride in like a white knight? She didn’t make the duty roster. If he wanted to get pissy, he could take it up with Duke.

Luckily, they’d chased off the wolf rather than shooting him. Sighing deeply, she admitted that the animal was magnificent and yet he didn’t seem to be freaked out by humans. Curious that. In fact, he acted a lot like the wolves at the sanctuary where she’d been volunteering when the war broke out. So far as she was aware, that was on the only wolf sanctuary in Ukraine. Maybe he’d been part of a catch and release program? A dilemma for another day, she decided after giving Kin’s bedroll a kick. He’d probably volunteered for patrol duty again just to avoid her. Well, she’d put an end to that.

When no one was looking, she slipped out of camp and headed in the direction she’d last seen the maddening man. She was maybe a quarter of a mile from camp when she heard rustling in the bushes. Creeping along, she thought she’d managed to catch Kin. Then a branch snapped beneath her feet. Forgetting about stealth mode, she rushed into a small clearing—only to find Dalton and Loch standing there, their hands behind their backs.

She stared at Dalton before shifting her gaze to Loch for an equally long look. Neither man spoke. They weren’t stupid. When confronted by a woman with hands on her hips, pursed lips, and fire in her eyes, a smart man invoked the right to remain silent.

She finally rolled her eyes and grimaced. “You two are nothing but trouble.” She pivoted and headed back toward camp.

“Double the trouble, double the fun,” Dalton murmured as Meg marched away.

“You were supposed to distract her,” Loch said.

“Hey, I did my share.” Dalton dug through a bush and snagged the boots he’d stashed there. “Here. He’ll need these.” He held up the combat boots and scrunched up his nose. “Jeez. A little baking soda would help.”

Loch had squatted and was fishing out a pair of combat pants, a T-shirt, and other items. “Try sniffin’ yer own, surfer boy. Yers smell of spoilt onions.”

“Dude, seriously? Why the hell are you smellin’ my boots?” A low growl raised the hair on Dalton’s arms. He glanced toward a dark patch of shadow between two new-growth trees. “Oh hold your horses, dude. You should thank the gods that we came along when we did. Otherwise, you’d have been caught with your pants down and your fur on.”

The large silver wolf stalked onto the path. Dalton held up his hands and backed away. “Fine. Your feet don’t stink.”

A cleared throat froze men and wolf alike.

“Who is that?” Meg was back. And pointing at Kin’s wolf.
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Writers, snippets to share? Readers, which is more fun, double trouble or doing your share? 😉