I can't sleep. Tairy is out like a snuffed candle. I could spend the whole of the night just looking at him. I love the way my whole inside aches just to be looking at his face. I think it might be past midnight, but maybe not. It is raining now, and the sound is so very pleasant. Our room is tiny, and these hobbit beds are tinier still, but there's nowhere in all the world that I'd rather be. 

Xanderian walked silently through the moonlit streets of Dol Amroth. Her sister and Finchley and Edu had returned home two nights ago, with two newcomers in tow. Aliandith of the Firstborn, and a woman called Ellsabeth fleeing boredom and frustration in Bree.

Two nights passed, a raven croaked it's dismal song outside of the Willowshade Estate, Lord Thorn Willowshade, sat at his desk, head in his hands as his thoughts flew on blackened wings to his fallen companion, her body hanging in the markets for him to find and to the last words they had shared... Those of anger and failings and business arrangements. All of it seemed rather small by comparison now, he wished it had all happened differently, that he had guarded her better as a friend in his business should.

It had been a rough night for Furley. It had pained him, and he'd been battered and bruised, and he'd merely only had a couple of sips of ale from the tankard he had purchased in the Prancing Pony. Now, he found himself in the Bree-Town Jail, and he wasn't in the least bit amused. 

Outside The Pony stands a line of Drummers, they wear green uniforms. Their hair, blondes, and redheads covered in ashes. For those from Rohan, they will recognize drummers ready to perform the last rites for a fallen. Behind them mill many waiting to follow. There are a surprisingly large number of children present. All with varying amounts of dirt on their faces, unkempt clothing, often worn thin. Street urchins, those forgotten by the masses, left to their own devices to live or die as may happen. Circling the children an honor guard. All armed with bow and spear.

A poem Syllea wrote for her best friend Davrynn.

Alone most days.

No family, friends, or loves.

A fake joyfulness

Worn like a mask in a play.