Breeland

After she had been dismissed, Isulril fell into a melancholic state. She ate little, and kept to her bed. Time was something both stilted and fleeting. Time kept her in a glass case, much like a butterfly specimen. She waited for she knew not what.

Soon, she began to waste away. Her body, once decidedly voluptuous, had now become thinner and frail. Her skin became nearly sallow, and there was a faint darkness beneath her eyes. She was weak, she was tired. Very little happened.

Starmere shining silver bright,

Across long watches of the night,

Countless gems of purest light,

Sunk still ‘neath sea, lost save by sight.

Star-near hanging nigh and low,

O’er looming hill of wound and woe.

Soft sweet songs of birds drift slow

near shore, notes none other now know.

Star-clear cold, as dreamless sleep,

Rolls over darkened fathoms deep.

Concerning Bree-Land: A Hobbit Guide to Tourism

A guide regarding newly adventuring Hobbits & tips on the best picnic spots

By

Dandedill Dilly Doffin

He awoke with a jerk.

The news still shook him. The sorrow still hugged him. The pain was still real. It had been a while, yet he still felt the loss as if it yesterday.

Walking down the dilapidated, ransacked streets of Millshaw, a couple held hands as they conversed in the night. Both hooded and cloaked, Nimraph and Eira walked through the small town. Passing some sprawled out scrap wood from the orc raids, Eira tried to distract herself from the destruction by asking, "How did a cookbook wind up in your library?"

She spoke in a light, amused tone. Deep down, however, she did not like the idea of going to that library.

Eira placed her third finished shepherd's pie on the counter. She pulled her oven mit off, reaching up and wiping her forehead. Cooking during the blazing heat of summer was certainly not a good idea. Yet, she had pushed through and made three delicious meals for the workers of Millshaw. Not only had she made three shepherd's pies for everyone, but she also baked her blueberry muffins, which were starting to gain infamy for their deliciousness.

Relief flooded Eira as Nimraph charged in. She stepped back, chosing to be defense while Nimraph attacked. She shouted, "Get lost! My husband won't show the same mercy I have!" 

One of the men hestated, taking a step back. The other let out a battle cry and charged Nimraph. Eira backed into the wagon, aware of Dammon crying. Meanwhile, the second robber had turned and fled.

Eira rode in the wagon, holding a sleeping Briar as Dammon tried to doodle despite the bumpy path. Eira was half asleep herself, looking out into the dead wilds. The grasses were brown, the river was almost dried up. Sadness flooded her chest as she blinked slowly. The group approached the bridge. Nimraph frowned looking around at the landscape. He emitted a soft sigh, "I do think we made the right choice..."

"It's so sad..." Eira frowned, "I know we made the right choice, but I'm scared for everyone we're leaving behind."