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March 19, 2007

Stacy: Contact

Dotus spun out the nightly tale, firelight reflecting oddly on his painted face. They all knew the stories, had heard them since womb-time, but he was a born logios and held them enraptured.

Nidas shifted uncomfortably as Dotus drew the tale to a close, conscious of the furtive glances sent his way. He couldn’t help it if he were named for the Great One. The looks made him think they expected the same from him, a thought that brought no little terror. He was rescued from his discomfort by little Silea, breathless and tugging at his sleeve.

“Nidas, they’ve come…”

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