Hard Winters RPG

[Folwren]

Javan ate his breakfast in silence, listening rather glumly to the plans for the day. It was not that he disliked cleaning the tack and leather so much, it was more that another day within doors seemed unbearable. And then Léof questioned Elfthain about if he was to go soon, and Elfthain responded, and Javan's spirits plunged even lower.

What was the point of even forming new friendships if they were going to be broken so soon? He had felt better since Elfthain had come. The winter had been hard for everyone, and he had no more to complain of than others - less, in fact - but since Garmund's father had died, Garmund had behaved differently. Cnebba, too, had grown distant, and Javan had found himself rather lonely. Léof was there, that was certain, but Javan and Léof had never been very close. Javan often thought Thornden got on more with Léof than he did himself, although he and Léof were closer in age. Elfthain, then, had been a welcome newcomer.

If only he could stay.

Javan looked up. The gloomy look cleared from above his eyebrows.

"I say, Thornden, couldn't Elfthain stay behind and live here?" he asked impulsively. "He could join the men at arms, couldn't he? He's a soldier in training, after all!"

Thornden glanced over towards Javan and smiled at the idea. "That would be a question more fit for Eodwine. I would be pleased to take him, so I could put in a good word." He turned and looked at Elfthain. "Shall I?"