Welcome to Three Word Thursday #43. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.
This week each writer had the choice of any 3WT vocabulary word used to date.
I chose the words from Week #41 because,
not realizing how much moving would exhaust me,
I missed that week’s writing.
- incompossible — two occurrences existing together despite the impossiblity of such
- thropple — strangle; throttle, choke; windpipe
- harl — drag
from episode: #42
Evaard tossed Fronesk’s body aside and grabbed Vernal just as the boy heaved. “The first one is always hardest,” he said.
Vernal shuddered. “When … when will this pass?” He heaved again.
Evvard urged the boy toward the water pump. “If you’re one of the lucky ones, it’ll stay with you forever. That’s what keeps you from killing any more often than you have to.”
Vernal plunged his hands in the water trough and splashed his face to hide his tears.
Chevall planted his foot on Ranold’s shoulder, grasped the shaft of his knife and wrenched it free. He used the edge of Ranold’s soft leather tunic to clean the blade. “You know it isn’t over,” Chevall said. “Mage warriors forge a mental bond with their men. His men knew the instant Ranold died.”
Evaard nodded. “We don’t have much time to plan our defense and I fear trickery won’t work twice.”
“Open the door,” Troga’s soft, melodious voice sounded in Evaard’s head. “I am strong enough to fly now. I can distract them.”
Evaard reached out and opened the door. He looked at Troga. How she’d gotten into the room was a complete mystery, but he was pretty sure it hadn’t been through that door and she wasn’t coming out it either. She was just too big.
Troga’s laughter echoed softly inside his head. “I will fit,” she promised. Evaard watched as her neck and head emerged, but her shoulders were wider than the portal. Troga leaned to the left and shifted her right shoulder through the door, then she leaned to the right and eased her left shoulder out. As she moved her back lowered and her spine stretched full length. Evaard realized that Troga was much longer and slimmer than she’d seemed inside. She freed her hips the same way she’d freed her shoulders. Evaard shook his head, “That’s incompossible,” he said.
“Dragons are like cats,” Chevall said. “If their heads will fit through an opening, their bodies will follow.” Then he asked Troga, “Are you certain you’re strong enough to fly?”
“Dragons heal quickly. I am fine.”
Chevall ran his hands down Troga’s side. Three jagged lavender lines marred her hide just behind and below her left swing. The wounds were sealed and free of scabbing. “In just two days?” Chevall said. “Now that’s incompossible.”
Troga lifted her snout to the breeze. “They’re coming fast,” she said. “I’ll lead them away.” She charged forward, spread her great wings and lifted effortlessly into the sky. Evaard watched with his mouth open.
“Yo!” Chevall called. “Let’s harl these bodies into the bushes and prepare our stand.”
Fencil moved to help Chevall with Ranold. Evaard and Vernal hefted Fronesk. They drug the bodies around the shack and buried them in the compost heap. “Seems fitting, don’t it?” Fencil queried. Vernal grimly shoveled manure over the corpses.
Evaard reached out and put his hand on his young page’s shoulder. “Remember, boy,” he said. “They’d have throppled the both of us without a second thought. Don’t think about taking his life. Think about saving mine.”
Vernal shifted free of Evaard’s hand and kept shoveling.
- Facinorous — extremely wicked
- Extirpate –destroy completely; wipeout; surgically remove
- hebdomadal –weekly; every seven days
Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on: February 11th, 2010