Marithorn's dark black hair is blowing in the cold whistling wind, and thinks of the troubles facing his people, and when and if he will go back to defend the by himself. It then gets to cold out and he slowly paces in the Inn.
The wooden floor creaks beneath his feet, as he walks over to his chair in the corner and thinks his plan of return over, and over in his tired mind. His face looks old, and weary from being so encredibly sleepy.He almost dozes off but stops himself knowing it will only end up in another long nightmare.
The people around continue with there drinks and conversations. Some huddle around the fire and talk, while others sit at the counter drinking their ales, with what seems like they have not a care in the world.
________
Home Made Vaporizer