Sunday Six. Sorta.

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I went back to this story today and figured why not post some more. This part isn't from what I wrote today but still, enjoy. It's more than six sentences. I don't think people will mind that.

It was true; the woods made Nadir nervous. He was happy and comfortable inside the castle walls, with his books and his sword, his education and his training. His routine. The woods were not part of what made him feel safe or comfortable. They were dark, even during the day, with their giant twisting trees, their windy branches, their silence.

That was what bothered Nadir the most about the woods. They were too quiet. He couldn't hear birds or anything else for that matter. It felt like slipping into pure absence of sound. He didn't mention it to Baz; that would mean actually admitting that fear aloud - never mind that Baz seemed to know Nadir was more than just unnerved. But he still refused. At age twenty he was nearly a knight of the realm, ready to leave squiredom - and the remains of childhood - behind. He couldn't be afraid of a mere forest.