Day 14 22,609 total; 3377 today. None at all yesterday.

Yesterday I kind of took the day off. Didn't write one word.

Today, I did 3,377, as that is what it took to get back on track. Feeling pretty good. That is easily my high word count so far.

Today's excerpt:

“This is the Tale of Moab”
“which is about the tail of Moab”
“which twas in front, not in back”
“and very hard it was packed!”
“with a mind of its own”
“and sometimes a bone”
“twould seek that which it lacked”

“Moab had quite the tiller”
“against boredom it provided much filler”
“he would till all the fields”
“till his tiller annealed”
“he would low like a cow”
“oh the fields he did plow”
“but some would simply not yield”

“Again then, to the seven seas”
“to learn what it would take to please”
“you mean the seven virgins!”
“to satisfy those urgin’s”
“as you like as they say”
“with these words we will play”
“but he’d need the skill set of surgeons”

The rhyming and word play went on an on recounting his visiting of the seven virgins while they finished and cleaned up and prepared for sleep. Sylk had lost track of the whereabouts of the visitor in the dark, but Moa’qi indicated that it had in fact moved off. They reached a stopping point to the Tale of Moab and Sylk asked what had been in the dark.

“Tell me”, Moa’qi replied, “what you were able to determine.”

Sylk recalled as best he could the original vibrations, then replied, “bi-pedal, though it did not feel like any of our tribe. Something was different. It is hard for me to tell. Since we’ve been off Flat Rock, it is like”, he hesitated, trying to find the right description. “Well, like I have cotton in my ears. Or feet. Something.”

Moa’qi just nodded so Sylk continued, “but it was not any herd animal, or any of those creatures that come out at night, sliding along. I have to guess it was a man, except, well, it wasn’t. Something about the sound of the steps. The gait was wrong, and the – sound, er, vibration, just wasn’t right… somehow.” Sylk was embarrassed. He was fumbling, and couldn’t really figure out why. But the vibration on the ground was muffled in some as compared to Flat Rock. He got distracted by this line of thought, and asked “Why could I sense things on Flat Rock better than on the earth? The vibration had to be transferred through the earth to Flat Rock, didn’t it?”

“Later.” Moa’qi was stern. “What else do you recall?”

Sylk looked at his Master’s face in the dying light from the fire. It had a hardness that concerned him. “Are we in danger?”

Moa’qi’s face softened. “Answer me. What else did you feel, sense; what else do you remember?”

Pausing to gather his sense/thought, Sylk replied, “It came slow and haltingly, trying to mimic natural sounds. From that direction…” he started to point but Moa’qi tossed a dew gatherer to him, forcing him to alter his movement to catch it.

“Don’t point. Just talk. Natural hand gestures.” His master war very earnest.

“Well from more or less opposite the way we came to Flat Rock, and roughly perpendicular to where I believe our village lies.” He paused. His Master said nothing. “Then, when it finally moved again, it was back the way it came, only, I’m not sure that wasn’t intentionally misleading.”

“Interesting. Why do you say that?”

“There was less care in the movement away then there was here. Like it wanted us to know.”

“Very good.” Moa’qi prepared bedding. “We go in the morning as originally planned. We will wake early. We will gather our hidden gear, then double time it to the village.”

“Moa’qi, what was that in the dark?”

There was a long silence. Finally Moa’qi spoke softly, “You remember the stories, when you were very young, about The Others? The short ones with the blue eyes and the different skin?”