Running the Marathon

So I am off to a slower start than usual, but I am about to break the 10,000 word mark, and take a deep breath of the satisfaction that comes from that small victory. I may be about 3,000 words off target - but my assassination attempt was foiled. My main character has been adequately traumatized.

I also decided to compromise between NanoWriMo and blogging . . . and post some excerpts from my work every once in a while. Remember . . . Nano is about *quantity* - not *quality.*

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<Agreed.> Feather’s voice was thoughtful. <She seems as lost as any of us. She hides it well, but I would bet she feels displaced. She is lacking a home, just like us.> The griffin’s voice became fuzzy as his thoughts turned inward.

Gwen took a deep breath and regained her composure. “So,” she said, her voice soft, “you see we may not be so different after all. Master Lefyre was kind enough to invite me to his school to evaluate whether the training he provides you may not benefit those empaths who have managed to survive. I haven’t been here for long . . . but from what I have seen, I am inclined to think that Master Lefyre may be right. And I hope you can forgive the trespass.”

<Cat’s out of the bag there, Trev. Hope you were planning on telling your students what you were up too.>

<Not really, no. But I never forbade her from telling anyone. Honestly, I didn’t think it would be a topic of conversation.> Trev looked around the circle of students, and then stifled a sharp bark of laughter when he saw Finch watching Gwen, slack jawed as any baby bird.

“There is no trespass, my Lady,” Finch said, closing his jaw with an effort.

“You belong here, same as us,” Jece said stubbornly, shooting a look at Trev that would have been alarming, had Trev been on the other side of a battle line. Sinsa said nothing, but her blonde head bobbed up and down with her agreement.