Strength

(OOC: I read this while listening to this music piece, and as long as you read it somewhat slowly, it works beautifully. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5zFnGRaO0E )

Eiragerd remembered the day. She could not have forgotten it if she cared to. Yet, she was surprised to find it did not stab her as she dreaded it would for weeks.
It was like any other memory and any other pain now. Looking back, she could not help but admire the growth it had brought about in her. Inspiration hit, and she could not help but write her heart on paper.

Have you noticed

How the clouds seem to weep with the strong?

As if to show them

That their sorrowful spilling of tears are not wrong.

As you watch them

They often seem to silently bear,

​​​​​​With smile or laugh,

As she held the ball Master Dimheim gave her, the strong desire to toss it in the air and catch it filled her. But she fortunately had enough self control not to do so, as she stood beside the fountain just outside the Prancing Pony.

It was a cruel night – dark and cold, empty of emotion yet corrupted, and it stabbed Nenusidh’s warm heart like a knife. The land was giving the ranger a message – a rather bitter message at that, that there cannot be mercy. The moon was neither bold nor strong enough to best the cruel skies, and the stars were too few and much covered. The land was covered in darkness, yet despite so, there was a fragment of light within the ranger.

It has been two days and well into noon, by now. Despite so, this did not trouble Nenusidh, perhaps it was one of the reasons why he had to set out so quickly, which was the journey will be a while in itself. He has made way into the steep hills of Nan Amlug, the area where the forest breaks into hill and deep valleys.