Ulcwyne

It was sunset when two Riders arrived at the gates of Harwick, a man and a woman hailing of Snowbourn. They were tall in stature and mighty, but their faces were weary. When they were halted at the gate they swiftly claimed that they came to speak with Reeve Aldor Harding, sharing news. 

One, two, three dead orcs.
The wind in the hair, the green of the Mærc running under the hooves of Fram.

My sister is delusional.

I already knew she was obsessive, but really she's pushing this too far, now. She thinks I'll forget that hissy fit in the Mead Hall, when she accused me to have returned home in the Riddermark on a chase for her fiancé.

• Gama
  • Harfed --- Theodwyn
    • Gleothain
    • Melowen
    • Ulcwyne

Melowen tosses aside the parchment and quill, disappointed with herself.

Stupid, stupid girl.

She never felt the urge to tell the tale in writing, no matter how thrilling or epic was the battle she fought. And now? Feeling compelled to write poetry... no, seriously, poetry? Melowen?