Happy Thanksgiving Eve! I suspect some of us here in the US will be cooking or otherwise preparing for tomorrow. If you’re busy, take a break and check out our #1lineWed prompt **.FAR: Beyond the world I know. And away. Near and.** Plus, we have our #ThursdayThreads inspiration: “Then explain this to me.” I managed to write a 250 word snippet that received an honorable memtion from last week’s #ThursdayThreads judge. I’ll admit I had fun with a silly bit of fluff. Sometimes I forget to lace some humor and lightheartedness into a WIP. I’m working on that with this one. Anyway, here’s your break-time snippet, which occurs toward the beginning of the book.
“Time t’rise and shine now!”
Meg groaned inwardly at the Irish soldiers pronouncement, which was followed immediately by Petro’s in Ukrainian. The kids whined too. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling tired and sore. They’d only been walking for four days. She just thought she’d been in good physical condition when taking the internship with the wolf refuge. After all, she jogged every day and worked out. Usually. One would think she’d be in even better shape by now. Walking was supposed to be good exercise, right?
She stretched her legs and toes, gratified when no cramps hit. Bracing up, she winced, missing civilization like crazy. She’d give everything she owned for a hot bath—for stiff muscles and to just be clean. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had more than a quick rinse off with a wet rag. Ugh.
The kids stirred around her so she reached for her boots, snagged one. She managed to get it on and laced while still inside the sleeping bag. She reached for the other. It was gone. Unzipping the bag and standing, she checked the area around her. Nothing. Walking on one boot and tiptoes with the other foot, she went searching far and wide around the camp.
Maxim called, “Miss Meg, what do you look for?”
“My other boot. Do you see it—” She broke off when Petro held up her missing boot—what was left of it. The man handed it to her, his expression blank. Examining her boot, she was even more confused. “This looks like a dog chewed it up.” She glanced suspiciously at the children. “Are you hiding a puppy?”
At their chorus of denials, two other people caught her attention. Loch and Kin. The Irishman stared at the Scot, who ignored his comrade. She glowered at one then the other. “Do either of you know what happened to my boot?”
Loch continued staring at Kin as he answered, “Possibly.”
“Then explain this to me.” She shook the chewed-up boot at them.
“Wolf,” Kin said, his face completely deadpan. “A playful one.”
“Are you serious right now? That’s not even funny, dude. A wolf sneaks in here and decides my boot makes the perfect chew toy? Yeah, right.” She stomped, though her balance was a bit precarious, back to her sleeping bag and pack. Good thing I have another pair or you lot would be piggybacking me.” She faced them again. “Just sayin’…”
She could deal with old boots and stupid explanations. She jerked off her remaining boot, tucked it into her pack just in case, and pulled on the worn pair. Fine and dandy. She could deal with whatever this situation threw at her, but the whole hot bath thing? That was nonnegotiable. They couldn’t get to civilization fast enough.
Dear Kin, liar, liar, pants on fire. And yeah, there are times when we all want to just hide in the bathtub while yelling, “Calgon, take me away!” Am I right? Writers, hopefully today’s prompts will give you the impetus to create new words. They did me, even in retrospect because I took the original 250-word snippet to 468, almost doubling the word count. Yay! Readers, have you had a “Calgon moment” lately?