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valarltdSongs for Guitar and French Harp: 5191/20000
Masquerade:11,813/20,000
That's 2050 words
so I can write on the Nicks.
Nick & Corban: 351 words
Corban in Control: 367
Total:2768
8552 total!
I have a bit that could be problematic.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moon_storm and any other editors, I'm taking suggestions. Is the fact that Gordon is 16 at this point a deal-breaker?
I slipped around to the back of the trailer, where it hooked up to the living trailers. There were six and I had no idea how I would find him. Then I smiled and took a deep breath. Gordon was back here somewhere and I knew what he smelled like.
I kept breathing and turned in a slow circle, smelling for the spice and desert and Gordon. There. I padded that way, being as quiet as my shambling body allowed. He was in the trailer farthest from the midway. I paused outside the window where I smelled him most strongly and listened.
I could smell he wasn't alone. And I could hear heavy breathing and rhythmic thumps. It dawned on me what it was. If I weren't furry, I'd have blushed.
This was more embarassing than listening to Mama. Then I started feeling sick. A deep, angry sort of sick that made me want to tear through the thin metal skin of the trailer and bite and claw and eat.
Then I heard something under the heavy breathing. A soft little sob and a low growl. And the sick bloomed into full rage. Someone was hurting my Gordon. I stopped myself from tearing open the trailer and ran for the woods on the other side of the midway.
On two feet, I could manage a shambling run, so I dropped to all fours and lolloped along a lot faster. Once I reached the sweet, clean woods, I let out a bellow that made two of the operators camped on that side look out of their tents.
I dug my short claws into the bark of a tree and ripped down, like I longed to rip into the human who was hurting my Gordon. But if I did, Gordon and I would both die for it and Mama too, most likely. Constructs weren't people.
Masquerade:11,813/20,000
That's 2050 words
so I can write on the Nicks.
Nick & Corban: 351 words
Corban in Control: 367
Total:2768
8552 total!
I have a bit that could be problematic.
moon_storm and any other editors, I'm taking suggestions. Is the fact that Gordon is 16 at this point a deal-breaker?I slipped around to the back of the trailer, where it hooked up to the living trailers. There were six and I had no idea how I would find him. Then I smiled and took a deep breath. Gordon was back here somewhere and I knew what he smelled like.
I kept breathing and turned in a slow circle, smelling for the spice and desert and Gordon. There. I padded that way, being as quiet as my shambling body allowed. He was in the trailer farthest from the midway. I paused outside the window where I smelled him most strongly and listened.
I could smell he wasn't alone. And I could hear heavy breathing and rhythmic thumps. It dawned on me what it was. If I weren't furry, I'd have blushed.
This was more embarassing than listening to Mama. Then I started feeling sick. A deep, angry sort of sick that made me want to tear through the thin metal skin of the trailer and bite and claw and eat.
Then I heard something under the heavy breathing. A soft little sob and a low growl. And the sick bloomed into full rage. Someone was hurting my Gordon. I stopped myself from tearing open the trailer and ran for the woods on the other side of the midway.
On two feet, I could manage a shambling run, so I dropped to all fours and lolloped along a lot faster. Once I reached the sweet, clean woods, I let out a bellow that made two of the operators camped on that side look out of their tents.
I dug my short claws into the bark of a tree and ripped down, like I longed to rip into the human who was hurting my Gordon. But if I did, Gordon and I would both die for it and Mama too, most likely. Constructs weren't people.
