13,800/32,000. Hrm. This needs to go faster. A lot faster. The 500/word per word strategy just ain’t gonna cut it for this project. The problem is, if I up it to 1,500/words per day I’m likely to end up with crap, which is worse than not getting this project situated by the end of the month. I must think about this further.
Snippet from ‘The Fight In The Grove’ after the fold.
And now you know why I am running pell-mell through a forest, with a dryad primly clutching my back. We of Man were not born to be priests of Earth-Father and the Sky Lady, but we take our duty seriously. A grove corrupted by bittersap is one bad thing; a grove that has lost its Tender to that corruption is a most different bad thing indeed.
“How did it start?” I asked. I could manage that much in the way of speech, as they were all short words. Dryads are strong for their weight, but they do have weight.
“Not by our hands, Jack,” she said easily enough, for was I not doing all the work? “We were tending the grove when a beast maddened by curdled bittersap came roaring through the trees. It looked like one of the cave-beasts” — which could mean anything from a bat to a bear, to a dryad — “and the Tender was careful when he slew it, I swear.”
I nodded. Bittersap curdles when mixed with flesh, although not all at once. “Did the beast still have a store of bittersap on its fur or horns?” Although that should not be enough to damn a Tender, or even a dryad.