Day 6, pm, sort of. It's 12:42 am on Day 7 actually. 9,784 words total; 2537 today!

Finally wrote twice in one day. First time since the first day. So, though it is technically Day 7, I'm counting the above as Day 6 word counts. Sue me.

Getting ready to leave Flat Rock. Here is tonight's excerpt"

Yes, it was collected dew. But, for the first time in his life, he wondered where the dew came from. And realized that he had no clue. He stood to watch as the torrent subsided, and the heat of the day began. Listening carefully, the sound lessened and finally stopped. Silence filled his senses. Down on the ground, there was always some kind of noise. Animals, insects, people; something was making some kind of noise almost continuously. Even during the night. Thinking back, he felt that there had been no noise last night. He was not sure, he had been in such a state from the day’s events that he could not recall. Standing motionless, he finally heard the slow measured breathing of his Master. Looking down at him, watching him sleep, Sylk was alarmed to see a kind of smoke rising from beneath him. ‘Is he on fire?’, he thought wildly. Casting about frantically for some gathered water, he realized the whole of Flat Rock was smoking.

“It’s called steam.” Moa’qi was sitting up. “Another word is evaporation.” Sylk did not respond. The sight was fascinating, and he sat down in his own area of steam, wondering what exactly was happening.

Moa’qi continued, “On the ground, the water disappears. It is soaked up by the earth. Here, on this rock, any residual water that does not pour down to the earth below, sits in tiny pockets until the heat of the day causes evaporation. You’ve seen it before, without realizing it. Or rather, if you will think, you have seen water disappear from surfaces that probably are not soaking it in.”

Sylk did not reply. His brain was having a minor temper tantrum, and he was trying to prevent it from taking over his body. It was too much. He was being asked to absorb way too much information, way too fast. In self-defense, he recalled a question from last night regarding confusion and a comparison to stress. He was certainly confused, and he was certainly stressed. Sylk bent his mind to ponder this one issue, and attempt to get at an answer. He felt close to the answer. Moa’qi had been pleased with some of his responses last night. The full answer that his Master desired had thus far eluded him. At least, he had received no indication that he had met his Master’s requirements regarding this issue. But, he was sure he was close.

The day wore on, and Moa’qi left Sylk alone. While Sylk sat and pondered, he got up and made an inspection of the surrounding area. He noted the little cache of sticks and twigs that Jedediah and he had hauled up here two years ago. He ticked off in his mind the disappointing observation that Sylk had failed to question where their fuel came from last night. Which observation only convinced him further that he needed to give Sylk some space, some time to assimilate. It was, he recalled, with no small difficulty that he had absorbed what his Master had shown him. In fact, he still worried over the finer points of the basic concepts. He would give Sylk until after mid-light meal. He would test him further on the healthy human reaction to confusion. If Sylk was ready, if his mind were fertile, Moa’qi would plant the seeds that would sprout into the beginning principles of The Ruminantia.

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