Alfgarid

Pale eyes raised from the meagre meal that rested on captain's table, flashing they took in the red-clad form before him. The tankard was raised from trestle in saluted greeting. ''Westhu hāl.''

Ceolswith greeted in return, "Westhu hal, Æthelwigend. I heard you returned. I just wanted to see how you fare."

She took Hreddere from his place in the stables when she was stopped by a young face. The young shieldmaiden was giving her a confused look as the Quartermaster was dressed in chainmail.

“Quartermaster,” Niehstu spoke softly, “Is that you? I almost did not recognize you. You almost look like a shieldmaiden.”

“You are not mistaken. At a time, I was.” Ceolswith looked down slightly, "Life got in the way of my training, but that is for another time. Busy?"

Niehstu shook her head, bringing her steed closer.

The silvery drops of morning dew slowly settled upon the green leaves of summer as the sun began its journey across the heavens.  The coming dawn had painted the sky into a crimson splendour, and a gust of chilly wind blowing to eorling warrior's face.

Régnwald strode along a sheep trail, then crossed over a ridge to find a smoldering ruin of a hut, a few sheep about. Five rough-looking men were eating at a fire-pit. He edged forward, eyeing the smoke, and they eyed him warily.

''Wyrm came in the night.'' spoke the first man.