'I cannot hear Piosenniel. Where is she?'
The dragon looked from one to the other. Mithadan sat huddled on the ground, clasping his knees tight up against him, as if willing himself to disappear. His grimed face was drawn, his countenance bleak. He looked at the dragon without seeing her, and the words fell into the silence between them like stones.
'She is dead.'
[ August 11, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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