16 |
To Everything A Season |
The ships holed up at wharf bob and sway as lightning forks overhead, dancing monkey-like from cloud to cloud. Moon and sun haven't shown for days; even greencoats are scarce. Behind locked windows, pendant lanterns glow crystalline bright. Like stiff sheets in the laundry, backs bend, sag – Northman and Southron, Vale-folk and Westmen find ways to neighboring tavern chairs and a shared bottle or cookie, and no one minds the violin. But uneasy peace is fragile: men of might and money can afford their quarrels. Isilwen dares no letters, but sends summer's tailing word north: Lebennin looks southward... |
Prompt: bottle, wharf, violin, moon, monkey, fork, hole, lock, sheet, pendant, crystal, cookie, letter, money, tail, chair. |