(no subject)
Now comes a woman clad in white from one of the mansion’s many side corridors. She is tall and fair, gold of hair and pale of face, and her left arm is bound in a linen sling. There is in her something cold that is too proud to be called sad. Her steps slow, and she stops and looks around her.
‘It seems I know these halls still less than I thought,’ she says quietly. She turns, and in turning sees the window, and the snow which falls outside. She goes to it quickly, surprise marked on her fair face. ‘But it was nearly spring.’
Eowyn of Rohan, from J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings trilogy. She hadn't posted in quite a while, so hopefully this is alright.
‘It seems I know these halls still less than I thought,’ she says quietly. She turns, and in turning sees the window, and the snow which falls outside. She goes to it quickly, surprise marked on her fair face. ‘But it was nearly spring.’
Eowyn of Rohan, from J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings trilogy. She hadn't posted in quite a while, so hopefully this is alright.