Monster-Moored Series: Part 2, Mongrel


There be snippets happening. The connective tissue needed to convert a bunch of scenes into the first draft of a novel. This bit was posted in Saturday Scenes two weeks ago.

Snippet One has Tardi learning to get on with various members of his new family. New, as in, him not being aware he was related to them until halfway Monster-Moored Part 1: Mortal. They are Stormies, with a culture and dialect he's having to learn as well.

Tardi lay totally enwrapped in the tarp. No concrete here to stop the tree in him growing while he slept. With his face at the fold-over to be able to breathe, he said, “What’s a trey apart from a three?”
Despite the tarp’s impermeability and instead of slop-slop, he worked his muscles. Contracting and releasing them in his feet, his lower legs, his thighs. Lower back, shoulders. The tarp’s tired old folds shifted and shirred over the ground.

“You never saw us but singly or in threes,” Trinnet said. He’d rolled himself into a smoothed old polar fleece blanket. “Stop that wriggling now, mule. So as at least I can get some kip.”

Tardi lay stiller, practiced minimalism. 

At last Trinnet snored.

“Treys, Fives and Sevens is how Stormies organise ourselves,” Shad said. “My father weren’t so loved that he could organise me into any grouping. When I was real young, it all hurt. When I got my weit-sicht I learned all the wherefores.”

Trinnet stopped snoring.

The ambience changed to suspicion. 

Tardi slept, woke, moved, slept, woke. The only second sight I will ever have is of the alien kind. 

In the dawn he smelled eggs frying before he even opened his eyes. 

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