envy

Awestruck

by a little something a little better than what could be achieved…

made by someone else!

a strike can turn an artist

into a shrew

with a bandage around its nose, a tear or two,

off to the quieter place,

back home.

…and maybe a cookie.

Continuation of: Tales of Their Past - Fænge-Nædl

There was a chill in the night air as all the folk were returning to their homes. Many drunk from their drinking, and everyone else weary from their reveling. The dim lamps shone yellow upon the dirt paths and only two figures remained out that night. They stood side by side upon the path before the Mead hall, silent, still as statues. 

A week has passed. I see no signs of sickness upon me. I spoke with the Bard-Smith, Daerren, and he agreed to accompany me to my house, which I had not approached in quite a while. I knew trouble would find me thither, since my enemies likely know my residence. Yet what we came upon were an agape door. And within, a dusty place with a familiar basket upon a table. The crying of infants  rang our ears.