Prompt: VINYAMAR: Some people have difficulty embracing changes and moving on. Write a story or poem or create artwork that shows the consequences of refusing to change.
So Melkor changed them. He sang their skins hard, thickened bones, polished eyes to night-shine sharpness. He sang them lion's claws and teeth.
And he Tuned them to his own Song.
Long, painstaking labor, but they were finally – finally! – his own.
But the first cut her brother's throat in hatred of him. He nearly lost the lot.
Time bred their fierceness out somewhat, but not their fratricide – self-hatred remains. Something other sings still in them: forever inward-riven, between Elf and Orc, no peace but death...