Esgallhugwen had decided it would be a good night to take a walk, unlatching the stable door after Lira's voice faded off even though the memory didn't. A few tears streamed down her face; it was a grievous song but was laced with golden tones of better days for the Elves.
Morsereg followed behind unbridled and unsaddled. He nudged Esgallhugwen softly to comfort her sad tears, patting him on the head they slowly drifted off down the trail turning to paly shadows. Clad in the raiment of her kin and the sword her Mother gave her, she smiled once more back at the warm glow of the inn; speaking softly to Morsereg in her own tongue.
later that night:
When Esgallhugwen returned the night deepened but the light of the moon did not falter. She sent Morsereg back to the stable and entering the Inn had to become accustomed to the thick smell of ale once again. She waved over to Lira able to percieve her in the shadow of the corner, very odd for Lira to be sitting in the shadow. But Lira was awaiting for Uien to finish converse with two other individuals, something was in the air... something always was. Esgallhugwen sat next to lira in silence.
[ September 16, 2003: Message edited by: Esgallhugwen ]
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"...for the sin of the idolater is not that he worships stone, but that he worships one stone over others.
-8:9:4 The Witness of Fane"
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