Just a short snippet from a chapter I edited yesterday. It’s still in the draft stage so wont be perfect.
I whipped Jester around and kicked him harder than I ever kicked him before. He tossed his head and heaved forward into a gallop. The cat hybrid was catching up fast.
‘Keep going and don’t try to fight it!’ The help spilled from my mouth. It didn’t matter that she was a hybrid, only survival mattered. The hybrid’s horse was faster – she soon overtook me and sped on. Underneath Jester’s snorts and thundering hooves I could hear the snarls and deep growls of the creature behind me. I needed to head toward camp.
We were quickly out of the woods and the camp was in sight. The hill was cast in early dusk, the moon and stars sent their helpful glow. I dared to turn in the saddle and catch a glance at the demon. My heart leapt into my throat when I realised how close it was, and how I knew Jester would never outrun it.
The cat hybrid made a sharp right and veered away from the camp. I let her go; my focus was the demon and drawing it to the camp. I drew my sword, pushed Jester to his limit and twisted myself in the saddle. The demon’s bulging muscles strained and stretched, pushing towards me, its long claws splayed, digging into the dirt and flinging it behind. I could hear its cloggy, chortled breath – fast and heavy. Its eyes were mad, red, and lidless. Its nostril less muzzle oozed black gunge. In full stride its limbs looked like a double jointed puppet.
I gripped my sword as it jumped, claws and teeth were bared. Gods.
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Clare Davidson said:
I love the description in this snippet, it makes the situation seem very real and urgent.
Ruth Ellen Parlour said: