Every Feather Was Made of Glass

"No one is born free, Eikin."
Adamantine
(happy 4th of July)

July Snip-Whippets

How familiar they all were! How blunt and unlovely and covered in flying muck and stubble—and familiar!
Plenilune

She breathed in desperation with one hideous sob. “How can you live with yourself!” she screamed at him. He was turning away, walking away, leaving shadows behind him. A wretched, red-tinged rage welled up inside her and she ran after him. With all her force she grabbed his arm and yanked him back. Her voice was still a wrangled scream. “He is your kinsman! With all your magic tricks—with all your wizardry, is there nothing you can do?”
Plenilune

They fell back in order, regathering and clumping into a rough square-shape that drew off, turned to beat down [FitzDraco's] pursuit, and turned to withdraw again. Lifoy was broken. He was out of the game.
Plenilune

"You're gammoning me."
Plenilune

When she looked at him the fox was staring off into his own thoughts with the look of one gazing at a nightmare, and when at last he spoke, still staring unblinkingly, his voice was hard but quiet. “You know that if you do it you will regret it every day for the rest of your life.”
Plenilune

That’s good down country,” said Skander.
Plenilune

All’s fair, they say, in love and war.”
“How alike they are sometimes.”
Plenilune

It seemed to her like the cry of every broken heart and every cheated love and every lost soul and every righteous fury that man had ever felt. There was power in it, a raging, thrashing, sobbing, terrible power.
Plenilune

 “He is a good fellow, quite loyal, but he has a short temper and does not rely so on main wit.”
Plenilune

When they passed into the light it was like being caught up in some other world entirely, a world in which the air was gold and every drifting speck of dirt or feather was made of glass and silver and the manes of the horses were made of thin-pulled copper.  
Plenilune

Hy my! I would not be his reputation for the world once it got under your heel.” 
Plenilune

Do not you ‘watch your mouth’ at me!”
Plenilune

He went off, spurs sparking light in the gloom, the sound of his boots and his horse’s shod hooves ringing on the cobbles. The mists curled around him as he mounted, he and his great gyrfalcon etched and smudged dark grey against the grey steel sky, framed by the old timber ramparts of the yard walls. He turned and turned about, settled in, and left with one last wave of his hand through the yard gate. The soft drub of the hunter’s hooves on the damp turf of the paddock rolled back to her, softly, softly…until it, too, faded into the grey of the October morning.
Plenilune

12 ripostes:

  1. Cool post! That pic is really cool, where did you get it from?

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  2. Cold chills and shivery! I love the word "drub" it slips so well. Lovely snippets Jenny!

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  3. I don't know why, but I love the second one especially. You captured the hurt and raw emotion so realistically; I can not only see it in my head but feel it in my heart (if that makes any sense :P). Your writing is so wonderful to read; it gives new meaning to Victor Hugo's words of "every syllable spelled out a spark".

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  4. I second Elizabeth Rose's comment.

    Whenever I read any of your snippets (and that goes also for your book, The Shadow Things) I just feel things so much more, the emotions and words feel so tangible, I think I can almost touch them. I love all those snippets, Jenny; thank you for sharing them and of course for the creation of them :).

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  5. "Every syllable spelled out a spark." That is just how I feel, Elizabeth Rose. Every syllable spells out a spark and every word is heavy with importance. You have the pleasure of reading these words and being carried away by them (if I have done my job right); I have to carry every single one of them and sometimes it becomes crushing. Not in a bad sort of way, but even now I feel as if I am burning so hard and long and brightly that I'm like to sputter out in exhaustion. But then, this is what I do, and I wouldn't do anything else.

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  6. I KNOW THAT GUY ON DEVIANTART.
    Sort of. I've seen his gallery.
    and the quotes - as always - are genius.
    Beautiful, colorful, brilliant genius.
    I kid you not.
    Oh, for a snippet of your skill.

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  7. I DO NOT KNOW THAT GUY ON DEVIANTART. But Tim keeps an eye out for me for pertinent artwork and he came across this fellow. I have a few of these snapshots but I don't know if I'll use anymore. He has a distinct face. Which is fine, for him.

    And thank you, as always, for the encouragemints. They are tasty. ^.^

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  8. *laughs*
    WELL I HAVE A PICTURE OF HIM SO I RECOGNIZED HIM.
    AHEM.
    AND WE'VE EXCHANGED A FEW COMMENTS. WHICH IS AS FAR AS ANYBODY KNOWS ANYBODY ON DEVIANTART.
    And yes, I love encouragements too. So I give them where they are do and devour them when I receive them myself. =D

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  9. Oh oh! Can I see the devianart guy? :D

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  10. I really liked that seconds snippet. Poor girl... she sounded so heartbroken. Good writing! :)

    Slipping by on the Snippets,

    Mime
    notebooksisters

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  11. Welcome, Mime! I was wondering when you might pop by. And thanks for the comment - of these snippets, I'm most proud of the sheer force of emotion conveyed in the second one: I'm not sure how I did it, but I think I pulled that one off well. Thanks for the encouragement!

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  12. I loved the 2nd one too. The "wrangled scream". You really did convey the emotion with a lot of power. Wow! And I'm left very intrigued after reading those snippets...sounds like an awesome story. :) My next favourite was the "You're gammoning me." Love it!

    stopping by on the Snippets too!!

    (and, with mime, I'm from notebooksisters.blogspot.com too!)

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