Aurelius stole onto a rocky outcropping above the buck, blades drawn, muscles taut, poised to leap. It was impossible not to acknowledge the hunter’s own unique nobility. Although Freydolf would never cater to the other man’s ego by telling him so, he’d often thought that this Aurelius—the one stripped of all his ruffles and refinement—was worth sculpting.

—MEADOWSWEET by C.J. Milbrandt

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s