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Old 05-12-2007, 06:56 PM   #58
Riveting Ribbiter
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Join Date: May 2005
Location: Assigned to Mordor
Posts: 1,794
Celuien has just left Hobbiton.
So easy. It would be so easy. Sæthryd knelt on the hard earth, listening to the rush of blood in her ears, and farther away, of the wind blowing harsh and wild in the dead passes.

The stranger's face was pale against a frame of dark hair, and even in sleep, Sæthryd thought that there were signs of some struggle within. It would be kindness to put an end to the struggle, to sooth the worried lines into the calm mask of death. That was the proper ending for those who sought the dead lands, whether they knew it or not when they came. Sæthryd stooped closer to the pale face, close enough to feel warm breath coming faintly from the intruder.

It would be so easy to send the stranger to the end of her journey. Sæthryd's fingers rested on the dark hair where it fell across the stranger's throat. But this one was different. She lived, and yet was somehow connected to the dead ones in the hills. Her hand fell back.

With sudden strength, Sæthryd grasped the visitor beneath the arm and dragged her toward the hut. She did not know why this one was different, or what had brought her so far into the wild. But she would find out, and the answer would teach Sæthryd what to do next.

They crossed the threshold, and Sæthryd espied a dog watching her from the trees. The dog ran to the door, and she slammed it tightly, ignoring the dog’s yelped protest. There were snares enough in the wood. The dog would fall into one eventually.

Last edited by Celuien; 06-01-2007 at 05:23 PM.
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