tragedy

It was the same dream that had haunted her for two years her mother would often say that a woman must always be strong for her children.  And when the nights were long with the children in bed.  Then and only then were tears acceptable and so when she knew there were no children to witness it she wept.  She wept because it was safe to be vulnerable in the darkened room with nothing but the sound of crickets to keep her company.  The blood, the warning to flee, the screams of her children.  The warning to flee.  Murder was

Three days ago, on a sunny but cold winter afternoon, Stitches found himself at the West Gate of Bree; ready to retire himself from a shorter day of work before he returned himself to his special hill to speak to the lady in the stars. Before making his way to Bree, while on the road from Hengstacer he had dawned atop his head a crimson velvet hood and bird skull formed mask.

OOC: A huge thank you to the player of Reffas for this lovely RP. Feels got tossed into a sack and rustled around.

"Alex."

Five Days Before...

In Celondim upon the running Lhûn
Dwelled Nendaer the child of the wood
Who spied Celebiel beneath the moon
And awestruck at her silver hair he stood
Her willow form and features fair and good
And thus the heart of Nendaer soon fell
The moment he first saw Celebiel

An old man, his face merry as the morning sun stepped through the door of the inn, a quiet day, though children played about, watched by two women no doubt giving the other mothers a rest, for there were too many children to be mothered by two. The day was fairly new, and beams of light invaded the darkness of the room, the dust highlighted as specks, as though miniscule wisps dancing through the air.