musings

It was the day of the big attack on the Dourhand docks. Hawk woke early, but even still Xan was already gone, no doubt mustering their odd assortment of warriors and making last minute preparations. Dressing and putting on his light leather armour, simple and not exactly well-fitted, he gathered his weapons and rode to the meeting place. The cold wind stung his face and eyes and blew back his wild hair and Hawk relished in the last quiet moments he was likely to experience that day. 

It's been several days now.  The time seems to fly so quickly, and yet stand still at the same time.  I only wish it could go backwards, that I may try to correct some of the mistakes I have made.

Raak, I've not seen him for several days. I should have expected no less after what happened, however I miss him.  Even as only a friend, I would still wish to see him, and hear his lively tales.  I worry about what has become of him.