persimmon
social justice cleric
Ehh, this will take off or it won't but I've decided I need some feedback on a little thing I've started writing and obviously the best way to do that is to trade it for feedback from me on other people's work! And then anyone else who wants feedback can carry on posting their own stuff whilst reviewing the work of the person before them.
So; give as detailed a critique as you yourself want to receive, and make sure to give new feedback every time you post a new piece!
If this already exists somewhere on here... I don't know, the more the merrier?? Here is the piece I would like you all fab people to look over -tell me, if you stumbled across this somewhere on the Internet (say, I don't know, here), would you read on? Bonus question for brownie points, who's perspective would you expect to be reading from following that segment?
So; give as detailed a critique as you yourself want to receive, and make sure to give new feedback every time you post a new piece!
If this already exists somewhere on here... I don't know, the more the merrier?? Here is the piece I would like you all fab people to look over -tell me, if you stumbled across this somewhere on the Internet (say, I don't know, here), would you read on? Bonus question for brownie points, who's perspective would you expect to be reading from following that segment?
Ten of them entered the town, riding hard down the single dirt road past half shuttered windows and suspicious glances, watched over by swaying willows still naked in the early spring days. Their clothes were filthy, but even from a distance it was obvious they were well made, fine riders on horses bred from fine stock. These great beasts were built to run down anyone foolish enough to cross their path and struggled under their own weight on the path. Unrelenting rains turned soil to treacherous sludge under those great black hooves, their chaotic passage sending mud flying and chickens scattering uncertainly out of the way. The riders slowed to make their way down this black river stagnating between washed out buildings faintly painted with colourful flowers of blue and red and white, disdainful as they took in the poverty surrounding them. Perhaps one day the town would have enough money, enough of a workforce to pack the path properly, perhaps even build a proper road. Perhaps. The war had hit these people hard and they wouldn't give the instigators a warm reception. Their discontent manifested easily in dark doorways and sheltered gaps between buildings, a few teenagers holding sticks and rakes lounging around a broken cart, two grandmothers in bloodstained aprons sharing a meaningful glance as they plucked a chicken. A group of old men watched the newcomers and muttered amongst themselves under their thick moustaches in a harsh language, a low hum of discontent like wasps circling a crushed nest. One broke away from the group and boldly stepped up as the horses pounded past. He spat at an officer, catching his filthy boot with blood-specked phlegm - there was anger and resignation in his eyes as he watched the horse wheel around with a surprised whinny. The officer looked ready for a confrontation, half-hoisted out of his saddle, one hand already on the grip of his sword. The villager squared his shoulders; it was obvious he had no weapon to draw and he swayed once, unsteadily, waiting for the punishment to begin. Onlookers were already gathering by the time the officer's boot splashed in the black mud, drawn by the tension in the air, the crackle of an impending conflict. A brawl was a familiar spectacle, and a welcome change from the weariness of wartime life in a run down village.
The moment drew itself out to its breaking point. In the space of five seconds a man's life was measured and weighed out against the affronted honour of an exhausted military officer.
“Fall in!”
The sharp cry split the air and shattered the tension into a multitude of reactions. A deep, clear voice carried a steady thread of authority, and restored some idea of balance while the townspeople scattered back to their tasks, blended back into the shadows of their homes. The offender released the breath he'd been holding while his wife sobbed in relief, and the officer ground his boots into the dirt while he considered disobeying his orders. The internal conflict played out in his eyes and sent a shiver of adrenaline down through his tense muscles - he hesitated on the side of disobedience for just a moment too long.
“What did I just say? Fall in, *now*.”
A gloved hand fell on his shoulder and pulled him back towards his comrades. He stumbled back towards his captain and had enough wits to look somewhat shamefaced, barely meeting her eye as he gathered his reins and stepped swiftly up into the saddle. It was clear that the moment was gone, and with it the hope for a clear and defined display of violence. Disappointment mingled with relief in the chilled evening wind as the company rode into the town.
The moment drew itself out to its breaking point. In the space of five seconds a man's life was measured and weighed out against the affronted honour of an exhausted military officer.
“Fall in!”
The sharp cry split the air and shattered the tension into a multitude of reactions. A deep, clear voice carried a steady thread of authority, and restored some idea of balance while the townspeople scattered back to their tasks, blended back into the shadows of their homes. The offender released the breath he'd been holding while his wife sobbed in relief, and the officer ground his boots into the dirt while he considered disobeying his orders. The internal conflict played out in his eyes and sent a shiver of adrenaline down through his tense muscles - he hesitated on the side of disobedience for just a moment too long.
“What did I just say? Fall in, *now*.”
A gloved hand fell on his shoulder and pulled him back towards his comrades. He stumbled back towards his captain and had enough wits to look somewhat shamefaced, barely meeting her eye as he gathered his reins and stepped swiftly up into the saddle. It was clear that the moment was gone, and with it the hope for a clear and defined display of violence. Disappointment mingled with relief in the chilled evening wind as the company rode into the town.
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