I don't know why it's double-spaced. I hope it's good. Need title ideas. ~Ruthie
“Bran! hi, Bran!”
Bran turned.
Rhys Andrasson ran up to him. “Are you entering the contest tomorrow?”
“What contest?”
“The falconing contest. The first falcon to get the lure and come back wins, and its master gets a gold coin! Are you entering?”
Bran turned red. He had no falcon. They were too poor to buy a bird, and he had no father to teach him how to train one.
“No,” he muttered. “I’ve got to go home.”
Rhys frowned. “tell you what,” he said “I’ll let you fly Kirsa, and if you’re better at it than I am you can fly him in the contest. We’ll split the coin. Good?”
“Yes!”
They walked to one of the many fields surrounding the village. Rhys ran into his house and gently brought out Kirsa. He held her on his fist and then raised it to the sky. With a surging of wings she was off, and the boys watched her gleeful circles.
“Okay,” said Rhys, “Now hold up the lure, and whistle.”
Bran whistled, and waited a moment, heart in his throat, watching the circling bird. He whistled again, and Kirsa plummeted from the heavens onto his fist. Rhys clapped.
“I’ve never gotten her to come that fast! Will you do it?”
“Of course! Besides, gold would be enough to feed us for a month! Let’s go again.”
They watched with pleasure as the falcon swooped and dived. Finally and with great reluctance, Bran returned home. He was happy, and a hole in his heart was filled at last.
Gwen was pleased that her son had a friend, and enjoyed asking him about his times with Rhys.
1 comment:
I've never been very good with titles. Ruthie, I can't believe how much like your mother you looked sitting in that chair last night. You are so beautiful and looking so old! Whoa.
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