And the rest of Chapter Two. Picks up where the last snippet left off. The story doesn't go much further after this. Can you tell I'm stalling until I get some new material down? (grin) I really am working on something. I'm feverishly putting together an outline on a novel. I plan to be a complete idiot and attempt to write a novel from September 1 through December 31. My version of 70 days of sweat?: "90 days of utter exhaustion"
She rolled on the ground, holding her wrist with her good hand, screaming and sobbing. When she rolled too close to the campfire and burned her thigh, that smaller pain distracted her enough to surge to her feet and run to the stream. Shanda thrust her hand into the water and steam rushed into her face, smelling of burning flesh and metal. She left her hand submerged for a long time, the cold water numbing her wrist and leaching away some of the agony in her hand, bit by bit. Her tears fell into the water like drops of rain.
When dawnlight peered beneath the trees and the fire in her hand faded to only knife-blade sharpness, Shanda pulled her hand to just under the surface of the water. Something on her hand caught the glimmer of the faint morning light and threw it in her eyes.
She drew a breath, and lifted her hand from the water, palm up. Fused to her palm and fingers, drawing her hand into an immovable claw, the shape of a silver cross glittered back at her.