tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post6512025219885960827..comments2023-07-06T07:33:06.262-04:00Comments on * Writers' Spark * Every story has to start somewhere *: Prompt: Running with the Cloud Herd Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-3493502541351922242013-04-03T01:11:08.116-04:002013-04-03T01:11:08.116-04:00I really like this. Nice touch to tell about reind...I really like this. Nice touch to tell about reindeer! Good teaser bits about swaddling clothes - is she pregnant on this adventure, or is it for someone else? And of course, what happens next?Margaret S. McGrawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18301618521427459626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-75725326712369034562013-03-28T18:16:06.639-04:002013-03-28T18:16:06.639-04:00Prompt: Running with the Cloud Herd
The sunlig...Prompt: Running with the Cloud Herd<br /> <br /><br />The sunlight on the tundra was bright and unrelenting. Heeva had thought she would never pine for the darkness again, after this winter's months of night. She rested her hand on her mount's soft fur. The reindeer seemed unfazed by the extended day, and Heeva had taken to using the animal's cues to tell when to stop for meals and sleep. Surely she had come far enough north, now.<br /><br />But there was still no sign of the fabled white reindeer herd, the cloud herd. She tightened her legs, squeezing her plain, brown reindeer's sides and urging him forward. Something floated low across the ground ahead. She goaded her mount into a pace and chased after what turned out to be a tumbling handful of white fluff. It snagged on the leaves of one of the miniature, twisted trees that spotted the tundra. <br /><br />Heeva dismounted and knelt beside the fluff. She reached out and touched it; it was wiry, but softer than horse hair. White reindeer fur. She rested her forehand on her hands and let out a sigh. They did exist.<br /><br />She pulled the bits off the tree and stuffed them in her satchel. The swaddling clothes should be made from hair combed from the chest and belly, but she was not about to leave the precious stuff to float away. Her mount tugged on his reins in her hands and grunted. A barely perceptible vibration tickled the soles of Heeva's feet. She stood.<br /><br />One crested a hill unexpectedly close -- like a cloud with legs, it sped across the ground. Then another, and another. She vaulted onto her mount and urged him after the running cloud herd. Now all she had to do was catch one.<br /> <br />Annenoreply@blogger.com