The dark-clad figure moved with surprising grace, in absolute silence. Scaling first one hedge, then another while barely disturbing the delicate flowers that adorned them, the figure avoided the occasional pool of torchlight that aided the moon, climbing from tree to tree. Black cloak wrapped tight, the figure dropped down behind one of the sentries of Lothlorien unnoticed. An arm around the elf’s throat, an inescapable pressure, and the sentry went limp, to be hidden at the base of the hedge.

By thine uncaring gaze ignore the winter weeping. Dreading.

By thine unspoken word observe the venom seeping. Spreading.

Eduwiges slowly circled her opponent, a man only a bit taller than she but weighing several stones more. He also had a punch that felt more like the kick of a rabid Moria Goat. She breathed slowly, conserving her wind. This was her fifth, and one way or another last bout of the day and the grind was taking it’s toll on the woman.

Brandilyn had spent the last year once again trying to pay a penance to herself. Her selfishness of the past left her alone again, but this time still in Bree. Kris and Amanda were still there too but Brandilyn did not seek out their company. She found a family in need and she made herself useful on their farm. She helped the new mother balance the chores of a wife, and mother, along with the duties of a farmer.