Graceful. That's one of the few words that came to mind as Adrian pulled back the string. Somber, was another.
Emeldia kept rubbing her arms. She felt cold, but she's always felt cold. Ever since she met Adonis it was like a blanket of his warmth, his love, had shielded her, but all she felt now was the bitter, icy, cold; it were nights like these when she missed him most.
Roger stood firm, crossing his arms as he watched his little cousin load a single steel tipped arrow. He's been waiting for this moment ever since he started training himself, and right now, he couldn't possibly feel any prouder.
Emeldia wandered in the moonlight of the ballroom. She had lit a candle, but it had gone out long ago. She was waiting for Theodore to finally come home. She needed to apologize. Last night
