Weekend Writing Warriors: Odd Duck (Snack Time)

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When last we left him, Tom described one of the “retaining rooms” in the basement of Lowell Rhombeck, the leader of the Talbot City werewolf pack.

This week, we take a look at the room’s occupant.

Duck Pate

Travis Rendall was lounging on the bed, watching the TV embedded in the wall behind a clear pane of something that appeared to be reasonably werewolf-proof, despite the four diagonal furrows scratched across its surface.

I suspected Travis; he was wearing a thick, padlocked collar with silver studs around it and a red rash underneath.

“He’s been a bad boy,” Merrok said, tapping a series of numbers on the pad by the door. The TV shut off.

Travis turned his head to look at us. “Is it snack time already?” he asked, eying me.

His smile showed a mouthful of bad teeth but no fangs.  The silver was doing its job.


Don’t worry: no wereducks were harmed in the writing of this scene. Travis is just being his obnoxious self.


Hey, is anyone planning to go to Camp Nanowrimo next month?  Could I persuade you?  It’s a lot less intense than the National Novel Writing Month and an excellent excuse to eat S’mores at your desk.

Christina Ochs and I have set up a private cabin, which holds twelve and has its own on-call barista.  If you want to join us, drop me a Camp Message once you’ve signed up (I’m Sarah W over there, too) and I’ll send you an invitation (Christina, did you get yours?).

Cabin assignments will be given by the hosts in three days and Camp starts April first!