The light had changed from autumn to winter since her acceptance into the wide spread company of those that have not uttered their true name openly for many generations. Instead of feeling welcome to be bound by blood through her father to a people living Tuilin had grown more apart from everything than ever; she fled to the wilderness, sought refuge among those she knew would not judge. Soon it was she began to travel to contain the coldness spreading maliciously inside her. Little success she garnered and ever farther her steps would lead, to lands she may have longed to see when they spread across a map on a table that now was no more. Yet treading upon their earth the will to live grew faint, it would not be long until the last remnants of strength leave her.
It was during these days that she led her sole companion through a rich land still seeking what ruin may befall her ways. unknowing that an unexpected encounter was about to force her dying breath to draw in life one last time, like an assessment whether there was any worth in a rebirth to her floating unconnected existence. Quiet lay the Shire, unknowing its inhabitants. Hooves trod upon dried earth, the wind whispering amongst bare trees.
The sun was setting as Tuilin – the twilight wanderer, holding reigns, reached the broken structure of what once may have been a dwelling of the old kingdom. With unseeing eyes she sets foot before foot. Unclear through anger-blinded eyes she beholds the shape of a man kneeling with flowers amongst the crumbled stone. He lays them to the ground with a silent prayer and as the woman seeks to retrace her steps back into the spreading shadows of night unseen his voice addresses her with a polite greeting as one would give to an unknown stranger on the travelling road. "Hail friend! Where ares't thou leading your steps this far from fire and road?" She knows that voice, but so defiant is her will that she cannot find the words to answer. The man stands and turns to face her, a hesitant smile appearing on his face. “Sparrow, is that you?”
To be continued...
If one happened to catch a glimpse beneath the grey hood of her cloak a gaze long bereft of joy and hope would meet the wandering eye of both friend and foe.
