Seeing the sun sinking and the sky, tenting pink and then the clouds bleeding red turning to a beautiful purple, through the windows, Annalaliath remembered her horse. Shouldering her saddle bags she strode out of the inn to look for a stable hand.
When all had been taken care of she lingered to watch the death of another beautiful day. Long, yes, but beautiful all the same. She breathed in the shire air that was only stirred by a gentle caressing breeze. She stood poised there in the small yard, her cloak falling about her, a beautiful thing made in Lorien, mud spattered and worn though it was. Her boots,( yes boots she found them more comfortable than the shoes of her kin) were worn and caked with mud.
She looked at a passing Hobbit and felt a twinge of jealousy for him, he was mortal. He could die naturally and leave this world. Annalaliath could not. She hated that. She wanted rest from the wandering and from the pain of her existence, but she could not rightfully just die. She looked at the darkening sky and felt the finiteness of the world closing in on her as all she loved and cherished died and faded away. Like this day, like the winter snows on the first warm days of spring. Like too many young lovers passion does as they grow old and it fades to almost nothing, like the day. But another day will be born tomorrow and life will go on, with out the slightest thought as to the short lived lives of Men and Hobbits.
She shook her head. And went back inside the Dragon to look for the innkeeper.
[ September 07, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]
[ September 07, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]
__________________
Bloody Stumps!!!
|