The ground no longer glowed from the moon and starlight reflecting back upon the white expanses of snow, nor from the blinding light that had engulfed her when she opened her door to the knock of whomever it was that knocked. My love, my dear one, how I have longed for your touch again. Indeed, it was no longer night and the sun held court in the sky, watery though it was with the threat of mist and drizzle.
Not fully winter, nor yet spring, she decided as she walked through the meadow. Better to move and remain warm than stay still and freeze she reasoned. In any event, should the lords of the spring court have brought her here, she was not going to indulge them by acting as easy quarry: should they wish her company, they could bally well track her down and ask according to common courtesy. Stubborn and resolute, Gwynne plucked a long, stray stalk of winter wheat and sucked on it through her teeth
( ... )
The sound of the woman's voice was enough to not just draw his head from beneath the shelter of his plaid, but also prompt him to sit up, though the action was immediately followed by a round of harsh coughing.
"Lass, wha'...it's nae safe fer ye tae be here." As confused as he was by where he now found himself, the Scot wasn't ready to relinquish the belief that the danger of English troops finding him existed.
"Ye canna stay, iffin they find ye here, wi' me. Ye must go."
"Oh, I am corrected. You have already caught your death of cold, or close to it," her smile was ready as she answered. A smile, she found, oft times distracted people from watching her eyes as she looked into them to find the source of their illness
( ... )
"Aye, tis jus' the ague, I'll do." His words were broken off by yet another round of harsh coughing which he buried in the damp wool of his kilt as he rested his forehead against his knees. As the coughs subsided he lifted his head again, and looked up at her.
"I donnae know this place. Twill sound like I'm mad, but, I went tae sleep in one place, and woke here, It doesna look like anywhere I know." His gaze scanned the field around them. He knew every inch of Broch Tuarach, but none of what he now saw seemed even vaguely familiar.
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Not fully winter, nor yet spring, she decided as she walked through the meadow. Better to move and remain warm than stay still and freeze she reasoned. In any event, should the lords of the spring court have brought her here, she was not going to indulge them by acting as easy quarry: should they wish her company, they could bally well track her down and ask according to common courtesy. Stubborn and resolute, Gwynne plucked a long, stray stalk of winter wheat and sucked on it through her teeth ( ... )
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"Lass, wha'...it's nae safe fer ye tae be here." As confused as he was by where he now found himself, the Scot wasn't ready to relinquish the belief that the danger of English troops finding him existed.
"Ye canna stay, iffin they find ye here, wi' me. Ye must go."
Reply
Reply
"I donnae know this place. Twill sound like I'm mad, but, I went tae sleep in one place, and woke here, It doesna look like anywhere I know." His gaze scanned the field around them. He knew every inch of Broch Tuarach, but none of what he now saw seemed even vaguely familiar.
Reply
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