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NaNoWriMo Day 9
Nov. 9th, 2023 07:30 pmWords (Written Today): 525
Words (Total as of Today): 5631
Mood: Tired.
Treat: Watching some TV.
First Line (Written Today): Instead, he watched from his cell’s tiny window as a massive arena was erected outside the capital city, and stared when the warden of the castle dungeons told him he was being transferred.
Last Line (Written Today): Tron dug his blanket out from under the bed, settled it over himself as best he could, and breathed slowly and calmly until sleep took him once more.
Favorite Line (Written Today): He had been here for over a year now. The Games here, at least, were not constant spectacles. They had seasons, in the spring and autumn, and the Fostians watched and cheered them on. Though last autumn, Tron thought he had spied southerners from Enqor or Mykros among the crowds, and it made his heart falter. What hope had his homeland, if Chesst had swayed some of them so easily?
And now it would start anew. The lesser prisoners would be brought tomorrow; he could only hope some of them had the mettle to keep fighting. He had thought that two years in such a place as this would break him, but still he fought. Chesst’s hold on the Seven Realms could not be iron-tight forever. Things would slip through his fingers eventually, and perhaps then…
Other Stuff: Another backdated entry, whee! I had a long day yesterday (errands to run, physical therapy to go to), and by the time I got my writing done, I thought, "I will come back later and do the DW post." (Reader: I did not come back and do the DW post.) So here we are now.
Words (Total as of Today): 5631
Mood: Tired.
Treat: Watching some TV.
First Line (Written Today): Instead, he watched from his cell’s tiny window as a massive arena was erected outside the capital city, and stared when the warden of the castle dungeons told him he was being transferred.
Last Line (Written Today): Tron dug his blanket out from under the bed, settled it over himself as best he could, and breathed slowly and calmly until sleep took him once more.
Favorite Line (Written Today): He had been here for over a year now. The Games here, at least, were not constant spectacles. They had seasons, in the spring and autumn, and the Fostians watched and cheered them on. Though last autumn, Tron thought he had spied southerners from Enqor or Mykros among the crowds, and it made his heart falter. What hope had his homeland, if Chesst had swayed some of them so easily?
And now it would start anew. The lesser prisoners would be brought tomorrow; he could only hope some of them had the mettle to keep fighting. He had thought that two years in such a place as this would break him, but still he fought. Chesst’s hold on the Seven Realms could not be iron-tight forever. Things would slip through his fingers eventually, and perhaps then…
Other Stuff: Another backdated entry, whee! I had a long day yesterday (errands to run, physical therapy to go to), and by the time I got my writing done, I thought, "I will come back later and do the DW post." (Reader: I did not come back and do the DW post.) So here we are now.
