It was a cold and misty night. The grounds of the chetwood were peppered in snow, the trees slumbering lifeless in hibernation. Snowflakes fell from the dark sky as Dolores sighed to herself and continued wandering around, clutching her black leatherbound journal tightly as she moved through the snow, piles of icy water being thrown up continiously by her boots. She began writing in her journal as she stood beneath a twisted tree. The snowflakes danced up and down as a chilling breeze kissed the woods, running through trees, rocks, and whatever was within the lifeless forest. The young girl smiled to herself.

"My name is Dolores Oakenweed, called simply 'Dora' by many. I grew up as the older twin of my spoiled sister Carlotta, to Wulfric and Freáwyn Oakenweed. My parents were from the Rohirrim, hence the strange names, but they settled in Bree-town and adopted to their lifestyle."

Yet how unusual, for as the snowflakes seemed to dance in an enchanting rhythm, Dolores could not fathom why the snow falling on her felt wet and uncomfortable. For a cold winter night, Rain was something unusual. 

"Even I do not know why my parents wished to settle in Bree, that would be an odd question to ask. And do not even ask me why I am here in the chetwood, a young girl dressed in dark raiments. I simply am."

The young girl stood up and wandered off nearby to an enclosed rock space under a tree, frowning lightly. She knelt and crawled in, not caring if her travelling garbs were sullied by dirt. She surveyed the weather outside with her slate grey eyes, watching eeriely as the snow turned to rain, and how the snowflakes outside stopped dancing in the wind. She sighed to herself and began scribbling into her journal once more.

"I grew up with a different view of the world. I acted and behaved differently than other children. I was smarter than most of them. I kept asking questions over my surroundings. The other children didn't like that. They liked to tease me..."

The rain became stronger and stronger now. Dolores bit the tip of her quill with her lips. Not liking the enclosed space she crawled out of the small cave, letting the rain drench her hair. However, she shielded her journal from harm by bending over it as she wrote. Her expression became a blank, yet dreamy expression, her slate grey eyes like the moon hidden by the clouds above. Another moment later, it curled into a mysterious smile.

"I like mysterious items and antiquities. Ravens were my favorite animals. They intrigue me. They always have. My sister didn't. She hated me."

The snow was slowly being pounded to the ground by the rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The young teenage girl, however, seemed to be oblivious to the weather. She was now completely immersed in writing in her journal, her mysterious smile forming into an intense expression of dislike and hate.

"I always hated my twin... spoiled, selfish brat, she is. She always loved getting gifts and being showered with attention. I was her complete opposite. I wanted to keep away from crowds, and I didn't like gifts much, but for the sake of politeness, I did. The only thing we have in common was our fiery temper and how we loved to argue with each other. She loved bullying other young girls, so immature and childish... but I, in contrast, was gentler, more ladylike than my sister. Others hated her, many liked me, but they were often repulsed by my strange appearance. But the problem is, I don't care. Let them like or hate me. The only thing that is truely important to me is my journal, and being myself."

The ladylike and graceful teenage girl then stood up as she realized that the rain was becoming to unbearable to handle now. Three drops of water had fallen onto the journal. Ink was being smidged on the pages. Donning her hooded cloak, she made her way out of the Chetwood, and disappeared within mere moments. The rain stopped, and all was still as a nearby Raven began singing out a lament. Suddenly, the Bell of Archet rang through the cold stillness. Smoke rose up from behind the cliffs which the Far Chetwood faced. The Siege of Archet had begun.