Then I took on this job based in another city. I severely underestimated how much time it takes to travel there and back; I'm lucky to get home three hours before I (ought to) go to bed. So I have little time now to write. Eh, I'll slog on anyway.
One of the main species inhabiting my fantasy world Aanuu is the gryphon, half-lion, half-eagle. I incorporated most of my gryphonian short fiction in The Eyrie: A Book of Gryphons, which can be found on Amazon Kindle, along with Dragonfly Woman, a novel devoted to the bird-beasts (along with early female aviator Amelia Earhart). I suppose it's time to write more gryphon stories. Let's try for a beginning right here:
Inkara of
the Bear Clan paced the length of a high, arid cliff-top. Her acquiline talons clicked against the
beige-gray granite; she created a second clicking with tongue in beak. It seemed criminal to waste a muscular
Adolescents’ talents on Gate Duty.
Gryphons of
Clan Bear tended to stoutness of body and leg like their ursine totems, but
Inkara more resembled the long, low panthers of the hot lands – particularly
one in a cage, because she marched in the same precise fashion.
All Folk knew
of the Gates. The Gates opened – somehow
– onto other worlds entirely. It was
through such portals that the humans and One-Eyes had arrived in Sakria to
begin with. Thousands of years ago,
however, a series of Catastrophes both natural and man-made swept over the
land: The Germination, the Rending of
the Veils, the Fire and Flood, the Wars of Purity. After those dangerous times the Gates no
longer functioned properly. Most had
stood dormant for centuries. The gryphons, the humans and other species
patrolled them more from habit than from worry.
An utter
waste of time, Inkara thought again.
***
There we go! And I have the sneaking suspicion a Gate will open . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment