Sample: Although he knew it was impossible, Jinnto felt as if the starlight filtering through the star dome was shining a hot spotlight on him. Undoubtedly the formal robes he was wearing were contributing to this effect, as were all the bodies pressed inside.
There were so many eyes on him. Some expectant, others lazy and intoxicated, searching, evaluating, eyes that were compound or yellow and slitted like cats.
He stood up cleared his throat.
"I've completed the evaluation. Our food stores are as follows: five thousand three hundred and twenty eight individual boxes of surplus grain-o-max. Twelve hundred seventy two cans of expired Slurm. Eight six foot high barrels of fermenting kombucha. Five cabinets worth of bulk spices." It had been (Abh) hell convincing the octopus chef to let him inspect that. "And a refrigerator full of...brick liquor? It's drinkable but very alcoholic."
"And what does that mean in time?" Asked Enitan in his low-pitched, grandfatherly voice. He leaned on his power-cane.
"We have between three and six weeks of food left."
"Thank you, young man. Well everyone, you heard the Count. We need solutions and we need them now. I need you all as clever as Anansi!"
Hands shot up and the conversation mercifully moved past him. He'd done his duty. Now he sought Lafiel in the crowd.
She wasn't difficult to spot. She was sorrounded by those who thought she was a Fay'lia, glaring or fascinated, but none daring to approach. She sat cross legged on an old carpet and glared back. He sat next to her. A friend of an Abriel's duty was never done...
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Sample: Although he knew it was impossible, Jinnto felt as if the starlight filtering through the star dome was shining a hot spotlight on him. Undoubtedly the formal robes he was wearing were contributing to this effect, as were all the bodies pressed inside.
There were so many eyes on him. Some expectant, others lazy and intoxicated, searching, evaluating, eyes that were compound or yellow and slitted like cats.
He stood up cleared his throat.
"I've completed the evaluation. Our food stores are as follows: five thousand three hundred and twenty eight individual boxes of surplus grain-o-max. Twelve hundred seventy two cans of expired Slurm. Eight six foot high barrels of fermenting kombucha. Five cabinets worth of bulk spices." It had been (Abh) hell convincing the octopus chef to let him inspect that. "And a refrigerator full of...brick liquor? It's drinkable but very alcoholic."
"And what does that mean in time?" Asked Enitan in his low-pitched, grandfatherly voice. He leaned on his power-cane.
"We have between three and six weeks of food left."
"Thank you, young man. Well everyone, you heard the Count. We need solutions and we need them now. I need you all as clever as Anansi!"
Hands shot up and the conversation mercifully moved past him. He'd done his duty. Now he sought Lafiel in the crowd.
She wasn't difficult to spot. She was sorrounded by those who thought she was a Fay'lia, glaring or fascinated, but none daring to approach. She sat cross legged on an old carpet and glared back. He sat next to her. A friend of an Abriel's duty was never done...