Yllfa

Hild shielded the candle flame with her hand, to lessen its light, as she peered round the door. She did not want to wake Brona from her sleep. She just wanted to check. To make sure she was actually there, back in her own bed. 

Where has this summer gone? Already the dark nights and mornings draw in, squashing the daylight that we are hurried to complete our tasks before Winterfylleth brings the season to a close.

Where did my wandering days go?

The trees were so tall and menacing, the undergrowth so heavy and dark that they had been something of a hindrance even for the silver furred she-wolf, and her small ‘magic’. Threatening, foreboding, presenting a nigh impenetrable shield-wall against any ‘outsider’, there was such bitterness in the air, that even Isa had to think twice before continuing. 

Time is ever fleeting, ever streaming, ever moving. Seconds crawl, hours pass and days fly by.