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Magic #148

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The small house of the woodcutter appeared cold and silent as Kralla came up the track. This was what she was born for. The hunt. Her nose flared, sampling the breeze. The boys scent was here, fresh; but mingled with the dust of ages. The musty smell of the tomb. Marakel, the lich, was here, somewhere.

Close.

Suddenly she span around, simultaneously unsheathing her swords with a loud metallic slish.

"Oh, ho! You are still a nimble little kitty aren't you!" Laughed Marakel behind her.

"Why don't you come here and find out bonesy. Taste the edge of my blades?"

6 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 7 months ago

    Aha! This should be fun. I love the ‘metallic slish’ Jeff.... very onomatopoeic!

  • avatar

    Jeff Taylor 7 months ago

    I like the dangerous sound of the edge of a blade being unsheathed. It's always nice to use a made up word that conveys the sound. 😊 Remember, Kralla's looking for some payback after the last time they met!

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 7 months ago

    Made up words like slish are so effective in pulling the reader into the experience. Whilst they might be ‘made up’, language is richer for their making... and the maker-uppers are to be saluted!👍

  • avatar

    Jeff Taylor 7 months ago

    As long as you heard it in your head Neville, it worked 😊

  • avatar

    VerityAlways 7 months ago

    I really like the description, and of course heard the slish!!

  • avatar

    Christopher 7 months ago

    I hope she slices the slish out of Marakel!

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