rohan

And as Lynxy looked through hills of ice and snow, dreams became forgotten and hearts became broken. Her bloodied feet had led her hill over hill it seemed from the winding plains of Rohan. The shoes were strapped together with torn pieces of her dress in a hope to keep them somewhat together yet the material only wore down messily upon the ground. The coins in her pocket were few and her body screamed with exertion. Her palm clutched at the streaming gash that crossed her delicate face. 

There they stood, the three of them. Meadwine, Meadowyn and Ægáldred were lined up before their father in the main hall of his house.

Their time in Harwick came to an end and soon the two Riders left and made for the their next destination: Eaworth. Though their journey did not go so easily. For when they crossed the Norcrofts yet again via different routes they found that there were many farms abandoned by the folk and left to defilement by evil orcs. There was little that they could, yet to their fortune there were no orcs to be seen abroad on the plains.

Haedley hurried off through the streets of Harwick, not even noticing that he had forgotten his armour in his witlessness. His mind was a mess and he had not even time to think of it. His mind was now bent onto the worry of what may become of him, and on top of it all he was hungry. His blonde braid was bobbing upon his back and some folk turned to greet him, but he did not notice at all. Then soon he arrived at the path to the Mead Hall and skid into a stop, now calming down and gasping for breaths as he approached. 

A Torn Woman

She beheld him, her cheeks blazed red with blush, and needless to say that his did too. Both in shock; neither had words, neither knew what to say. However, some one had to break the silence or the awkwardness of the moment, Haedley wished to nestle  deeper beneath his blanket like a turtle that could hide in its shell when faced with danger. It was an awkward exchange of stares, and both of them felt it.