[The feed points upward in the early morning light, and not at an easy angle to see all that is going on. But the trunk of the memorial tree is clear in view, as is the crown of a head of blonde hair.]

How - how dare they. Knowing what becomes of him.... Have they not taken enough?

[What starts out harsh changes to sadness as she speaks. With ( Read more... )

[Juliet has pulled her hair completely away from her face, this evening. She looks a little shaken, a bit paler than usual, which only makes the words burned onto her neck stand out more. She angles the device so that it gets a clear view of the text. "The game's afoot: Follow your spirit; and, upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry! England and ( Read more... )