The Great SNOTSB - First Snippet
Hello, Writeblr!
I should probably do an introductory post, but perhaps I’ll do that later. I’ve been dying to share a snipped with you all from my current WIP, Speak Not of the Stymphalian Birds.
@weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables, @lady-redshield-writes, @cog-writes, you are all some of my favorite writeblrs on this site, and I’d love for you to see this. Anyone else who wants to be tagged in future excerpts, please let me know!
EDIT: I made a huge goof and left off the first paragraph. It’s updated now, and should make more sense.
Snippet One
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Of all of the places on this wretched planet that the Morkuva could have selected to hide, it had to be a desert. Not that Nate could blame them. It was the last place he would have wanted to look. The binary stars that were the center of the Medusa system were white-hot on the back of his neck, despite the light layers of cloth he had wrapped around himself to keep his flesh from blistering under their heat. The ‘Eyes of Medusa’ was what other spacefarers before him had called them, and only now did the name make perfect sense. He was certain no one could survive the vengeful scorch of those twin suns.
He felt sweat trickling down his neck, making him grimace at the grimy clumps of his hair matting to the back of his head. He glanced at his DIAD to try and glean an estimate for how far they’d have left to travel, but when static met his ears, the sound as vicious and empty as the sandy winds whipping around him, he knew they’d be stuck making their rendezvous the old-fashioned way.
The ache in his back from the strap of his carrier pack digging into his skin begged to differ. He grumbled under his breath, cursing the Morkuva for choosing such an asinine location, and adjusted the pack, sighing in relief as the weight transferred from one sore shoulder to the next.
Are you sure you can carry that for the rest of the journey?
Nate chuckled at the familiar voice echoing in his head. He turned around and saw his traveling companion close behind him, his head tilted to the side as if he were analyzing him with a scientific curiosity. “I’ll be fine,” he said, cheeks pulling into a grin masked behind the cloth that was wrapped around his face.
The heat seems to be bothering you. I am not as affected, so I might be better suited—
“No,” he insisted, waving his hand up to halt further arguments. “I’ve worked with the Morkuva before. They aren’t the friendliest people to deal with, and they don’t take kindly to strangers. Besides,” he added, “since you’re the stronger of the two of us, I need you to keep yourself as unburdened as possible, in case we run into danger.” He knew Cygnus would be able to see through the lie if he wanted to, but even though he could sense the nature of his false words, he would never pry into why he said them. It was a sign of respect between them.
If Cygnus were to delve deeper into his thoughts, he would have seen that his fear of the Morkuva was not founded in their distrust of strangers, but the ability of the particular stranger he was traveling with. If the Morkuva figured out that Cygnus was an augment, and a telepathic one at that, the Eribrium crystals he was bringing them would hold little value in comparison. He had been adamant that Cygnus stay on the Nettle when they’d pulled her into orbit, but he was no match for Cyg’s own stubborn logic as he presented a flawless argument about the potential threats of the unmapped portions in the Larujm desert that Nate couldn’t refute.
Cygnus hadn't been wrong to warrant caution. If he was the one insisting upon Nate staying behind, Nate would have used the same rebuttal. Since the DIADs could not get signal in this sector of the planet, there was a significant limit of information they could rely upon to help them navigate the barren dunes. The only thing he recalled from the database on the ship’s computer was that the desert climate in Larujm made up aproximately seventy-three percent of the planet’s ecosystem.
They continued walking through the russet sand, with no visible trace of life, save for the two of them under the Medusan suns. Nate swallowed, trying to relieve the dryness in his throat, and realized with mild annoyance that he would have to take another sip of water soon.
Cygnus, he’d noticed with a pinch of shame, hadn't opened the canteen once.
In fact, as he cast a glance over his shoulder at his quiet companion, he noticed Cygnus looked as though he were meant to belong here, as natural and expected as the rich-colored sands and scorching heat themselves. The cloth of his desert robes, clean from any perspiration, were rippling in a savage dance with the wind, and he walked through the sand with such grace, as if he were gliding upon a surface as smooth as glass.
Nate decided, in a private moment of disbelief, that he would have to retract his earlier theory that no one could survive here. Not that such a feature should startle him anymore. In the time that he’d know him, when had Cygnus ever failed to be full of surprises?
