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Rough draft of a scene from Frontier Station.
Heading down to the docks, Mirith took a breath and ducked into a crowd, easily losing Loushai, who was unable to maneuver through the people without extreme caution. Jogging and dodging humans as she went, Mirith spotted a wolfadon male. She fell in behind him, as the humans tended to give him a bit of clearance, unlike with each other and the psion Loushai, who was still struggling to catch up with her some distance back.
“Excuse me,” she said in gilon. “Sir! Excuse me?” she skipped around beside him, “Sir!”
The wolfadon’s ears flicked back as he looked down at her, briefly showing his teeth. Boldly, Mirith stared up at him until his expression changed again. She wasn’t quite sure what the expression was, but guessed shock. “I need to speak to your translator,” she said in Gilon.
His ears flicked and he continued walking. Continue reading “Denied”
This was originally the last chapter in Playing the Hero. However, I decided to cut this scene for the sake of trimming out unneeded parts. Thus, this scene DID happen, however it is now an extra found only on the site.
Playing the Hero: Dinner with the Farem
Vathion was grinning by the time they reached their destination, which was deep within the rambling tunnels and halls of the Hub Core. They had passed hundreds of Wilsaer along the way, and he had awed them all with his graceful bounding from one wall to the other, somersaulting and kicking off walls and down into tubes after his guide, who had taken one glimpse back and had gotten the idea that he could speed up their trek.
As soon as Vathion had left his honor guard at the door, they began whispering to each other and withdrew from view. The room was a large spherical chamber with a circle of chairs on the far wall in which there were already a pair of Wilsaer. In the center of the room floated a lighting device, casting strange shadows on the walls. Otherwise, the room had smooth walls painted white to keep the area from being a cave.
Koska’s brows raised as she looked up to see them, and she stood politely. Her father, Dagamaee, did not have to stand, but he did look up. “You’re early,” he stated in Wilsaer.
Flashing a grin, Vathion sprung across the room and twisted to stick his toes to the wall and straightened, facing Dagamaee and Koska, “And I brought desert offerings,” he replied in the same language.
A Wilsaer sprung across the room from another doorway and Vathion handed over the pack to that one without looking at the man. “For how many?” Dagamaee asked, smirking.