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A hint of a breath escaped sharply from between Eostre's teeth. Empty. Of course it was. Abandoned in the fear of the burning coming from beyond, abandoned in the whispered hope that somewhere there might be refuge. Refuge? In Rohan-proper? They were at war!
Who isn't? her mind whispered. Even beyond swords and things some might call sourcery... at war with emotions. Battling words.
She closed her eyes for a moment as they passed into the town, empty shells of buildings surrounding them, the gaping windows eyes staring into their souls. It was intense; painful, such a loss to see that it tightened her breath. A door slammed shut in the bits of wind, the tinkling of some chimes somewhere.
And the ever echoing clatter of their horse's hooves against cobblestones that may never again be touched by human feet. Eostre glanced back at Meghan for a moment; the girl had made it back to the party before they had entered the town. She looked so pale...
And Fionn, just as silent as the rest...
At least some of us will have to continue. She frowned, and her face stayed that way, as if pressed into the expression. Her mother had always told her if she scowled too much, her face would remain pasted into that position. Had her mother spoken of this little village as well? That if it stayed unaware, it would stay that way, all the people fled and leaving it to frown? Leaving it as a ghost?
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