Still, any progress is better than no progress, and I have this coming weekend to make up word count, in the gaps between the event I'm helping Amy cover with her henna business. I also resolved an issue with my remote-desktop software on my home PC, so it will be much easier to write over my lunch hours from now on.
And now, to bed. But first, some work-in-progress:
The next day the pyre had burned away to nothing, and Niles awoke to another beautiful day in the jungle. His hurts were less sore, and his emotions less raw, than they had been yesterday, so on exiting his tent he stood up immediately to test his footing. His ankle still hurt like fire, but felt as though it would hold his weight.
No moving rocks for him today, but Niles made a survey of his campsite, making a mental list of tools and supplies he would have to replace after the ransacking the Muurari had given it. He was lucky that they had left him his tent, perforated and lopsided though it now was.Firewood, tinder, the shovel, rope, twine... His thoughts wandered as he contemplated how much work he had ahead of him. He’d made rope before at the monastery, but it was long, finger-shredding work. Perhaps there were some local vines or creepers he could use to save time...+++NAME’s mother came up the path to Niles’s campsite, tentative and shy. She carried a cloth bundle, and set it on the ground before Niles without looking at him. He said a gracious thank-you to her, and she blushed. She backed away a few paces, and Niles knelt painfully to open the bundle: his cooking gear! Evidently her husband had taken his pan and ladle for her after the fight, such as it was.Over the course of the morning villagers stopped by and returned his rope, twine and shovel, and several children came by to gather wood and other supplies for his campsite.
-Rich
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