Welcome Warriors, and Snipsuns and anyone else who wanders in. Happy second Sunday in November. Yikes! Almost time to bake pumpkin pies! :-)
For all of you taking the NaNoWriMo plunge--Here's a BIG "You can do it! GO WARRIORS!" :-)
Weekend writing Warriors is a weekly bloghop. Each week, participants sign up HERE at wewriwa.com, then post 8 sentences of their work, published or unpublished, to go live between noon, Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday EST. Then we visit each other and read, comment, critique, encourage--all those things that do a solitary writer's heart good.
The Snippet Sunday group can be found HERE
I've skipped a few sentences to move it along.
Undaunted, Deamante fired back, “And look where it has brought us, Rella and me. Look at the good coming for the Dominion, a son born this day.”
Brilliant flashes of lightning came amid resounding rumbles— a harbinger of doom. Deamante could see it— the wisdom tree standing so close to the house it was witness to this birth. Its mighty trunk, a lesson in naked strength, gave way to twisted and weak, broken and gnarled branches. The wind roared through it, shouting to the ruler, but pride numbed his ears. He didn't hear it say, “From the mighty sometimes come the weak, a willow in the shadow of an oak."
Crinda turned away from Rella's face, and with a voice that carried more sadness now than anger, said, " I've been looking, Deamante, and don't see good coming; I see sorrow. And most of tomorrow's sorrows were sown a long time before today.”