‘Listen,’ Kerrid said. ‘When you spin fibres to make thread, you do the spinning and the fibres are spun.’
‘Wrong, Wise-Woman.’ Huat shook his head at her. ‘I don’t spin. If I could do spinning, I wouldn’t need you to teach me, would I? You don’t know much, do you? Not for a wise-woman.’
‘Let me say this another way,’ she said, her patience hard-held. ‘When I spin fibres to make a thread, I do the spinning and the fibres are spun.’
‘Then I won’t need wood-bast to spin into a trance?’
Excerpt from Lake of Dreams, book two of The Spinner’s Game quint, currently in preparation for e-publication.
92 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt