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Three Word Thursday #46

This is the story for the words I missed the week I moved. 3WT will resume for all players next Thursday. Come on and join the fun!

Welcome to Three Word Thursday #45. Please join us in our weekly romp as we try to rescue lost and forgotten words from the dusty halls of antiquity. 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.

The Words:

  • amarulence, n. — bitterness, spite
  • assectation , v. — act of following after something else
  • defedate, v, — to defile, to pollute

previous episodes here

from episode #45

Evaard and Chevall returned to the river.  “If I fanced frozen feet and wet boots, I’d wade out and turn a few rocks to make it seem we tried to cross this way,” Chevall said.

Evaard crossed his arms, chewed his bottom lip, and made a slow turn, studying the country side.  A long, sturdy, wrist-thick bit of driftwood caught his eye.  It was silvered and dry from baking in the sun on the river bank.  He picked it up and carried it to the edge of the stream.  Once there he used it to stir the pebbles at the stream bed and dislodge a couple of the large rocks, leaving an apparent disturbance in the river bottom, then he hefted the limb into the middle of the stream and watched it rapidly float away.

Chevall chuckled.  “You know, Evaard, with your brains and my sagittipotent skills, we just might survive this.”

Erasing the Trail

Fencil built the fire ring and started a very small fire with dry wood, then he sank down next to it gratefully.  His left leg hurt horribly.  He wrestled his boot off and pulled up his trouser leg.  Somewhere when they were wandering through the brush and climbing over deadfalls, he picked up a Canterberry thorn.  It was deeply embedded on the inner side of his left leg just above his knee.

Canterberry thorns weren’t poisonous, but they did have razor sharp edges with duel hooks, like an arrowhead.   Pulling the thorn wasn’t an option.  The barbs would break off and fester under his skin, leaving him open to gangrene or some other defedating blood infection.  Fencil pulled his hunting knife from his belt and thrust the blade into the flames.

Evaard and Chevall, walked over a mile upstream obliterating their trail.  “This will do.  We want to make it obvious we’ve covered the trail.” Evaard said.  “That way they will be expecting a trap or a trick, and they won’t miss the over turned stones in the stream.”

Chevall agreed.  “If we are due any luck, they will try to cross the river there themselves, and not follow us downstream. And with greater luck still,” he continued, his tone rife with amarulence, “They’ll all drown and save us the trouble of killing them.”

“I have an idea of how we can guarantee their assectation,” Evaard said as the two knights carefully made their way back to camp.  “Do you think you can shoot an arrow across the river?”


The 3WT #47 words will be:

  • eructate, v. — belch
  • noctambule, v. sleepwalk
  • coxcomb, n. a conceited, foolish dandy; pretentious

Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on: March 18th, 2010


    1. Polona — well, Fencil is fixing to be brave anyway. The names in this story are more commented on than any other feature. I am glad everyone is enjoying it.

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