Werrolyn – intro

It has been awhile since I seemed to have time to write anything here. Work and living keeps getting in the way and then the chore of editing the book.

Still, progress is being made and I think the beginning is complete enough to preview a couple of chapters for some feedback. If possible.

Anyway, here is the opening.


The cell was small.

Just inside the bars, she paced doggedly. Three steps to the wall… turn… three steps to the opposite wall… turn…

While her legs continued the futile exercise, eyes darted over the all-too-familiar terrain – within the cell and without – for some way out. As usual, no way presented itself.


The world beyond the bars remained unchanged. Brick walls, painted white, seamlessly mocking thoughts of freedom. Two windows set high in one wall were shuttered, sealing her confinement with visual finality.

A small wooden platform stood against the windowless expanse of painted brick, its form bare, square wooden legs supporting a collection of metal implements too far away from her bars to offer even a hint of help.

Midway between the two walls – the one windowed and the one not so blessed – stood a singular wooden construct leaning at an angle against the ceiling above, patterned with small planks of wood, one higher than the next as if beckoning upward: here, here, here to freedom.

It was the same scene as always. Unchanged.


A sound came from overhead.

Her head cocked sideways, eyes tilted upward. Her pacing slowed.

Another sound. Then another. Her eyes followed it as it moved toward the top of the leaning construct across the room. Then came another, different, sound.

Pacing arrested for the moment, she turned and waited.

And watched.

A foot appeared from the ceiling. Another followed a moment later, standing side-by-side on one of the higher descending planks of wood. Then they moved forward, and down, one after another… down… down…

The creature belonging to the feet stopped about halfway down to the featureless gray ground and bent, the upper portion of its body coming into view.

For just a moment, their eyes met, hers and this stranger’s. Then it righted itself again, turning around to speak toward the ceiling.

“Not yet.” The feet rose then, one after the other retracing their earlier course down the planks. In a moment, the creature’s visit was nothing more than a memory.

She waited, wondering what the strange call was, what was the creature trying to say? After a time, she realized that the words – meaningless to her – did not bring any change.

The creature was gone and the sounds receded across the ceiling.

After a few moments, sensing no further movement, she leaned forward and sniffed at the bars as though some scent of their manufacture would guide her to find the method of release.

Cold. Metallic. The array of scents presented nothing to her.

Cocking her head once again toward the ceiling, she shifted her ears front to back, slowly, trying to catch any further sounds.

None came.

Yellow eyes turned to survey the room beyond once more while her feet started moving again, slowly returning to their former cadence. She slowly turned her attention away from the short interruption of her captivity and her feet resumed their mechanical path within the cell.

Her pads moved silently three paces one direction, turned and went three paces back.



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