Since I'm trying to learn to write properly, I thought i'd write down one of the stories of my life.
I met him in the woods, camping among the trees as so many foreigners who would be killed in Bree do. I was sixteen, innocent to love, but not to death. My first thought was fear for my life; he quelled my fear , waving me over. He introduced himself as Hadin, and explained that he was from the far east, and had come here fleeing the war. It seemed a perfectly logical reason.
After a few days of speaking to him briefly nearly every day I went out to hunt, he suggested I stay in camp with him... I accepted, and while that probably seems like a poor decision, it was safer than where I was: in the streets.
I never once beyond those first days feared for my life around him. I got food, and fur, and he protected me. It wasn't long before we developed what to all the world seemed to be a mutual affection. This being said, when he told me he planned to travel east again, I saw nothing but an adventure being laid out before me, and said I would go with him with a level of excitement that since the death of my parents had been lost to me.
We set out, and made our way eastward from the Chetwood, stopping in an inn in the Lone-Lands.
He was the first man I ever slept with, and it's a good thing my great aunt doesn't know, she'd probably kill me for having laid with an Easterling. I can't say I didn't enjoy it.
Everything seemed perfectly fine, until we made it to a great stone bridge on the very eastern border of the Lone-Lands...
He ceased me in the night. I remember little, I believe it for the best, but when I came to I was in the river, the drought of the area having kept me from drowning, if he'd even intended me to.
I've still yet to go past that bridge.I want to one day.
