Writing Challenge - Day 10

To all who are reading this,

This blog has reached a whopping 100 posts today! I never thought I would get this far - my old blog dwindled out within a few months, so to reach 100, is an amazing achievement! So I just want to thank you to all those who click the links, read the posts, ReTweet and Favourite when the links are posted onto Twitter, +1 on Google+, Like and Reblog on Tumblr. Yes, I seem to post everywhere... 

Thank you for your kind words and support on upcoming projects, releases, interviews and reviews, posts and more. You are the kind of people who keep writers like me going. It is as much your blog as it is mine!



And, it's also a really special blog today too - besides the celebratory post. We are also officially halfway through this writing challenge on post 10! Isn't this awesome? Now, I know we have squeezed two into one posts on occasions, but I am still writing and that is what matters.

So... On with the show.

Yours, with eternal ink,

Zoe

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JUNE PROMPTS YOU TO... WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 10. - HAIR

Gwen kept to the side streets, her footsteps light as she moved across the rooftops. The boots she wore had thick soles and encased the muscles in her legs, and she leapt from place to lace, grasping her hands on the poles and wooden beams that protruded, landing catlike with every opportunity. As she moved onto the next rooftop, she swung herself too far and her arms flailed as she hit the smaller barn roof on the outskirts of the town. She landed in a crouch, and rolled out flat, her breath coming out in one great, "umph".
Groaning, she stood, brushing down her clothes. Dirt, straw, and even bird droppings, had covered her. Her black tunic was fitted at her chest, but trailed loosely around her hips. She had secured it though, covering her matching black leggings with a leather belt. The buckle was silver and had been hand crafted. Cole had given it to her on her twenty-first birthday, and she wore it everyday. Her arm braces were leather to match her belt, but without any silver buckles. 
Standing on the roof, she could really appreciate the beauty of the city. High rising buildings towered over the smaller dwellings, whilst the streets still hustled and bustled with life. City watch guards were stalking the streets, keeping prostitutes and over zealous merchants selling their wares, under control. It was her city, and it always would be. 
Far into the distance was the outline of the castle. Darkness was setting over it, just as much as the darkness was inside of it. Once upon a time, that had been her home. She had been a princess. She had been a person of worth. Her father had ruled, whilst a wet nurse kept the ever adventurous and cheeky princess in line. She had taken lessons in sewing, dance, poetry and so much more. She had even been betrothed to a neighbouring prince, until he had shown his true colours.
Gwen had been taken away that night, to spare the sight of her beloved husband-to-be murdering her father.
Ever since her midnight flight, Gwen had been training for the moment when payback would be hers. She would make the selfish bastard pay for what he had done to her and her family. Looking back, he would never expect the would-be assassin to be the Princess Gwendoline. She didn't even look like her old self.
A scar under her left eye. Freckles glowing underneath her hood from time spent in the sun. She was a lot thinner than she used to be. And her long luxurious blonde hair was gone. She kept it shorn close to her head with a knife, and had darkened to a grubby dirt colour. Cutting her hair had been a hard decision, but as Cole had repeatedly told her:
"If you were caught and your hood fell, the first thing they would do would be to grab our hair. They would bare your neck and slice it open. And believe me Princess, it is the same colour as mine."
So one night, she had handed him a knife and sat solemnly before him. She heard every gut wrenching slice through the strands and she let a silent tear fall down her cheek. Once she had got used to it though, she quite liked it. At times she still woke up and went to brush her fingers through it, but realised too little too late that it was all gone.
Guards were shouting from the market square. Swords were clashing left, right and centre, and swearing was coming thick and fast. She could hear them at close range. She saw a man crouching from a nearby rooftop, and she heard a loud piercing whistle. Corey had given her the signal. His idiot brother couldn't be trusted to do anything, could he?
"Cole, what have you done?" she murmured to herself, making sure her hood concealed her. She vaulted into a hay stack from atop the roof, crawled out and headed for the road. Her boots thumped on the cobblestones as she walked. Shutters were being drawn shut as the shouts got louder. No matter what happened in this town, people were terrified of the guards and what they might do to the people of the town.
"He's going to get himself killed one of these days," she said. "You do know that, right?"
"He get's the idiocy from papa, you know? Mama was never so stupid." Corey dropped in beside her, emerging from the shadows. His voice was soft, melodic even, especially when he spoke about his parents. Corey, and his strong headed brother Cole, had been turfed onto the streets for two different reasons.
Cole had been a thug and bruiser. Got on the wrong side of the law and had eventually built himself up to be a castle guard. He had been responsible for helping Gwen escape...
And Corey... Well, his parents didn't appreciate that he was a homosexual.
Gwen felt for the blade on her right hand brace. The feel of the steel brought all her senses back to her. She had work to do. Her, and Cole, and Corey.
After all, the night was still young. 
© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2014)
Currently reading: Seven Deadly Sins: Settling the Argument Between Born Bad and Damaged Good by Corey Taylor