I had some trouble writing the next few scenes because of POV problems, so I started reading articles on POV. Two pieces of advice that stood out to me (in this article by K.M. Weiland) were, “Choose the POV of the Character Who Has the Most at Stake,” and “Choose the POV of the Character With the Most Interesting Voice.”
Cloudwillow took over from there. As an added bonus, instead of using close third, she went straight into first person. :P
Let me know what you think!
Unexpected Adventure, Part Seventeen
We sat around the campfire, me and dad together, Regis across from us, eating bread, melted down snow, and dried meat—fresh is so much better, especially with butter, spices, veggies, pastry wraps…
I looked at what remained of my portion in distaste. Daddy noticed, and whispered something about being grateful. I said that I was, and I'd be even more grateful if we had some of mom’s mountain goat flambé.
He chuckled and hugged me. “Wouldn’t we all,” he said.
I sighed, fingered the stick of meat, and continued gnawing at it. A fantasy of it being venison instead of cow—cow was much tougher than venison, in my opinion—didn’t help my watering mouth and suddenly dissatisfied stomach.
I looked up. Something was bothering daddy. His eyes twitched whenever he looked at Regis. After a minute, he shook his head. “Regis, why do you insist on keeping that ridiculous back scabbard?”
Regis leaned back and looked at the stars. “It’s mine.”
He said it as if that was a perfect and understandable reason for everything. I made a face. Daddy must have agreed with me, because he said, “That’s no reason to give yourself further injury.”
Regis and I gave him blank looks. Mine changed, though, because I saw what daddy was going to do. A giggle bubbled up in my chest. I clapped my hands over my mouth to stifle it.
Regis didn’t move his gaze from daddy. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, since now you are unlikely to have both swords out during a battle, it’s an unnecessary risk.” Daddy stood, gesturing. “Go on, draw one.”
Regis did, and I couldn’t help it. I laughed. Regis’ face was confused for a second, but daddy was already moving. He got behind Regis, drew the sword from the back scabbard, and laid it against the side of Regis’ throat.
“That, my friend, is what I mean.” Daddy smiled and walked in front of Regis, moving the blade so that the point pressed against the jugular. “I’m surprised this hasn’t been done to you before.”
Regis blinked. “So am I.” Normally, I could tell if he was annoyed, usually because he said something sarcastic or terse. Right now, though, I couldn’t.
I skipped over to him, then patted his shoulder. “Good job. You’re learning about our ears.”
Regis raised his eyebrows. Daddy agreed with me and added, “Tomorrow, we will see if you learn about your sword as easily.”
Regis didn’t moan, but I saw it. His shoulders shifted and his eyes darted to the cover of the forest around us.
I tugged at his sleeve. “You’re not getting away from this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
But he did. He slept across from me, on the other side of the fire. His eyes were half open and—
Daddy nudged me. “Stop reading him, darling. You will have plenty of opportunity for that later.”
“Okay.” I gave him a kiss on the forehead, said, “Night, daddy,” then wriggled deeper into our shared sleeping bag. With pranks filling most of my mind, I fell asleep.