Finally reached the points in Planting Life in a Dying City that need actual revising, so work has slowed down a LOT, only abuot 1000 words today.
Still, progress is progress.
Have a snippet:
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Chotaikytsai sat at the fire with Tsouchm. The crackling flames were loud in the quiet night. Their neighbors had already retreated to their homes for the night, at the city was almost disturbingly silent. It was quiet enough ey could almost hear Lefeng, Kolchais, and Kyawtchais talking by the gate. Almost.
The murmur of words was indistinct, but Chotaikytsai could see clearly the shy smiles and shining eyes. The joy in Kyawtchais' hands.
With a smile of eir own, Chotaikytsai reached out to take Tsouchm's hand. Eir skin looked nearly black against Chotaikytsai's lighter brown, the difference caused by the years Tsouchm had spent working in the sun while Chotaikytsai wove. Chotaikytsai traced eir thumb across one of the darker spots that dotted Tsouchm's hand and sighed at the young parents finally saying their goodnights. "To be young again, ey?"
