[Aylwen Dreamsong]

She walked with no one beside her, no one behind her, and just one companion before her down the roads and paths of Lake-Town. The young woman watched the people of the town rebuilding this and that as she passed by them, but her eyes and face remained emotionless even in the sight of destruction. She was aware of the disaster that had befallen the area a year before, but the lady had seen and heard of stranger occurances in her years of traveling. Her years did not number many, when compared to others, but years feel long when days mean nothing and only the nights matter.

Rolled pieces of parchment protruded from the flap of the pack that she had slung across her back, but she held no other belongings in her hands. Her lone companion ran up ahead, panting cheerfully before the woman. His shaggy, ebony hair gleamed in the bright sunlight and his chocolate brown eyes showed naught but happiness as he led his mistress on. The young lady looked down at her dog, her only companion, and smiled at his lively nature. The woman pushed her own raven hair back behind her ears, the loose curls twisting easily behind and out of her face, curling down to her shoulder blades. The linen skirt she wore tattered at the hem, falling near to the middle of her calves and revealing her black traveling boots. She had rolled up her tunic sleeves earlier that morning, letting her forearms take in the warmth. Her dark skin resembled the color of wet sand, and she basked in the sunlight.

“That is well, Grimm,” She murmured to her dog when he came to walk briskly at her side. She scratched behind his pointed ears as she looked back up into the sky. Her eyes squinted in the bright light. “Yes, Grimm, it will be a good night for me tonight. There is not a cloud in the sky, and I will be able to watch. First, we must find a place to stay.”

The dark dog barked in reply, running a few feet ahead of the woman. She looked at the roofs of all the houses, eyeing them carefully and taking in all the details. Many were thatched, which brought a smile to her face. Others had not been replaced and were mere holes revealing the insides of the house to the watching sky above. When she saw the sign for the Vineyard Tavern, her eyes quickly darted up to the thatched roof. The slope seemed generous enough and did not rise too terribly high, though it sloped upwards to a point. Nodding, the girl pushed the door open and walked into the tavern. Her animal companion, Grimm, followed behind her, close enough for his wet nose to touch along the hem of her skirt.

Sitting down in the first empty seat she found, the girl sighed and pulled her pack off her back. She bent down to where Grimm sat obediently, patting his head reverently. “I hope they allow dogs here,” his owner, the young lady called Kellan, muttered gently to her animal friend.