Date: Saturday, December 27, 1997 4:21 AM
From: Joy/TheMorrigan/LadyElspeth/menagerie
Yvelynne had awakened in a graveyard, well, not so much of an awakening as...a mere opening of her eyes, for she was already standing. She shivered, wearing only leggings and a leather vest, suitable for summer. Even as she looked about her and tried to sort out who she was and what she was doing here, she felt an odd compulsion to travel toward Camelot. Not only did she know she should go there, but she also knew exactly which direction it was, even though she had no idea where SHE was.
She'd thought about that for a moment, and then the first wave a memory had washed over her...a darkened room, she'd had companions...confusion, several people attacking her...HER...and she'd no idea why...fighting...blood...nowhere to run, and finally, one of them...one of the ASSASSINS leaped on her...
Her eyes had widened as she recalled this...yes, an assassin had gutted her, thinking she was her look-alike cousin Elspeth. Then comprehension dawned..."I DIED!" The hatred and anger toward Elspeth that she'd felt in her last living moment washed over her, consumed her, overtaking even the unexplained compulsion she felt. All she wanted to do now...was destroy Elspeth.
She had turned quickly at the movement in the periphery of her vision...A man...a tall one...she thought he looked like one of those that had attacked her. If only she could remember better. Her mind felt...hazy.
He was moving off toward Camelot. She shrugged..."Well...last I saw simpering Els, she was there." She caught up to the man quickly and saw his vacant expression. He LOOKED like her mind felt. He didn't seem to recognize her, which was good, she guessed, and he only responded to her questions as they traveled with grunts.
As they continued their journey it had become apparent to Yvelynne that this man was following her instructions without question. He had even burglarized a modest farmhouse to get them clothes more suitable to the weather, although the cold didn't seem to bother him as it did her. She had insisted he wear the cloak, scarf, and hat to at least hide his identity.
They neared Camelot, coming upon a turnoff to another keep..."WolfKeep" flashed through Yvelynne's mind. She wondered how she knew that, and why. As she considered this a slight figure appeared and turned down the path toward Camelot. At the sight of her cousin Yvelynne's blood boiled and irrepressible rage overtook her. She had swiftly devised her plan...
Date: Sat, 27 Dec 1997 05:37:49 -0700
From: Dan (Rannis/Kavin/awww, you know the rest.)
"Fortify the east wall!" Lord Tarayne hollered over the din of battle.. the clash of sword on sword, and the screams of the dying. The battle was not going at all well as planned. Already the barbarian horde had pushed his lines to the very walls of the Haven and threatened to break through his defenses. His men were brave; assembled from only the best soldiers and knights of the land, and handpicked, and honed to even greater perfection. Their armor gleaming brightly even in the dim light, contrary to the murky haze which had blotted out the sun, and their weapons were crafted from only the finest of steels.
And yet they were losing. Sky's Haven was a lone outpost, which sought to defend against interlopers into the borders. In all his years as lord of the keep, Lord Bordavin Tarayne had never once seen the walls breached. There had been sieges, but all had been broken. But this was different. Daemons and undead monsters fought alongside human raiders, spreading chaos and distemper through his men. Morale was low, and it seemed not even the dancers he had imported before the siege could raise their spirits.
The attack had resumed at dawn, and had started with a massive boulder hurled into the eastern wall by catapult. The damage had been enough to weaken the structure, and even now, the enemy swarmed it, using it to their best advantage.
Tarayne himself wore a gleaming breastplate, richly adorned, but at the same time strong enough to stop even a dwarven battleaxe. His arms and legs were protected with a sparkling armor of chain mail. His bastard sword shone with a brightly polished hue, as did his kite shield which he wielded on his left arm. The crest of the silver dragon with wings spread sat centerfold on the shield, the colors of the shield a pattern of white and black.
He had seen many battles, his hair grey, with streaks of black. He sported a short beard and moustache, which hugged tightly to his face, as grey as the hair on his head. His eyes, despite the heat of battle, remained a calm blue, compassion shone from within, loathing the creatures which slew his men by the dozen.
"Damnable creatures," He muttered beneath his breath from his place of command on the field of battle. He would not attack until necessary, for he had learned long ago the folly of that deed. He was commander now, and it was his duty to stay alive. The heralds ran messages to and from the battle as he issued the orders, but he could see that without a miracle, the outpost, and all who dwelled within were lost.
A shadow fell across the field, and at once even his faint hope of success dwindled. A gout of acid shot out of the sky, melting the flesh off of several men's bones where they stood, lacking even the time to scream. The black dragon screeched it's success loudly, and a cheer rose up from the hordes of the enemy. It arced towards the haze covered sky, the leathery wings beating intermittently to catch the air currents.
"Sir? Captain L'gallan wishes to know if he should push outwards from the northern wall."
He half turned towards the herald, taking note of the young boy's features, but didn't let his own hopelessness transfer over, knowing that the lad understood the weight of the new development. "Tell him to maintain his position. I want to try and pull men from the western flank to assist. There are few of the enemy there. Go quickly."
The boy nodded hastily and dashed off to his duty. Loyal to the bitter end, thought Tarayne, then returned his thoughts to the battle. The dragon screamed, and dived again, it's claws scathing through the ranks of his men, limbs shredded from their respective bodies, and some simply shorn in half.
He turned his head from the sight as another cry of victory echoed across the field, his lower jaw set firm in the depth of his rage.. for all the death. It shot upwards, then turned for another pass on the doomed soldiers, a wicked gleam shining in it's eyes. The gleam changed to something else entirely as the clouds parted to grant passage for the shape streaking down to meet the black wyrm. A solid stream of cold ice shot from the form, shearing into the side of the black. It screamed in protest, and turned to meet it's assailant. The powerful jaws snapped towards the wings of the rapidly descending silver, which ducked beneath the jaws, corkscrewing it's wings to barrel roll through the air. It abruptly rose, it's claws gouging deeply into the side of the black. The two locked mid air, four wings rapidly beating to stay aloft as they tore into each other.
Tarayne turned back to watch the aerial battle, his mouth falling open, a faint twinge of hope forming deep in his gut. The silver bit deeply into the neck of the black, and held on as they began to descend earthwards. It tore a scale loose in the chest of the black, following up quickly with a piercing claw. The wings of the black slowed before stopping altogether. The silver struggled to free itself from the falling lizard, managing to kick away as it hurtled towards the ground. The giant corpse smashed headlong into a wedge of enemy soldiers, splattering several of them into bloody messes. The silver rose through the air, letting out a victory cry of it's own, despite bleeding from several gashes across it's chest.
A cheer rose up from the people of Sky's Haven, which spread like wildfire through the battlefield. The spirits rose, and they fought with vigor, the silver streaking down to demolish it's own share of the enemy.
A line of men began appearing on the horizon to the west. On horseback, they charged towards the fray, maiming and killing foe as they joined the battle. The reinforcements from the Host of Light had arrived, and they began to aid in cleaning up the remnants of this assault.
The enemy began full retreat, scattered and disorderly, their morale low at the loss of their dragon, and most of their force. The silver rose above the sky, spreading it's wings wide, it's tail trailing towards the ground. Lord Tarayne lifted his sword, holding it towards the magnificent creature in a silent salute. It turned slowly through the air after having paused a moment, and streaked downwards, chasing down the fleeing army.
"Sir, shall I have Captain Myonner adjust our defenses to the eastern breach?"
"Yes. And when the enemy is fully routed, have the rebuilding begin at once. I'll be damned if Sky's Haven falls on my watch."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The laughter in the tavern was genuine. Battered armor and dented sword was the rule of the day, and not a soldier there stood without battle scar of some kind. It cheerfully delighted him to see his men so at ease. Free drinks in honor of their victory, he had ordered first and foremost upon entering the cramped building, realizing the need for his men to relax and let off steam.
After their routing, the enemy had disorderly scattered. Their reinforcements had taken the soldiers and otherwordly creatures involved as prisoner as they had plucked them up. Many had returned to the main battle group, but a good portion of soldiers remained to fortify his numbers. He calmly scanned the room, taking note of everyone and their actions, for he would have no fighting in this place, even if it was to blow off steam. But the air was light. Anything but tense.
"Might I join you?"
The question came so quick that he was startled, and stared blankly at the newcomer before he gathered his wits enough to reply. The man before him was of average build. Nothing special by any standard, except his hair was a stark white, and almost silver. His eyes held a soothing quality to them, and were blue, like his own. He wore no armor, but robes of white, and around his neck, the symbol of the Clerics of Tyr. He seemed not too young, but certainly not old. Most likely in his mid twenties.
"Of course," Lord Tarayne broke out, remembering his manners, and indicating the chair beside him. "Make yourself comfortable, friend.." He paused, prompting for a name.
"Taerdallen" He offered, and extended his hand for Tarayne to shake, which he did without hesitation. The man sat across from him, looking at him for a long time in silence, a smile playing about his lips. "You are a fine Commander. There are many who would have panicked in the face of a black." Bordavin chuckled to himself, unaccustomed to gaining compliments for doing his duty. "I did what I was sworn to do, no more." He said, and then sought to change the subject. "I don't recall seeing you around before, Taerdallen. Did you arrive with the reinforcements?"
"Yes. And I was honored to be chosen for such a task. I have heard Sky's Haven has a reputation of never falling against a siege."
"Quite true. Never before." He frowned a little, taking note of the man's arm held across his chest as he sat, as in pain. "Are you hurt?"
"Nothing I cannot handle, Lord Tarayne," Said Taerdallen, moving his hand down to rest in his lap, away from his chest, but he winced at the pain it seemed to cause him.
Bordavin nodded, for he could not force aid on one who didn't wish to accept it, especially not a cleric, of all people. He left it alone, and returned his attention to his ale, sloshing a sip of the foul tasting brew around with his tongue before swallowing it, forcing himself not to gag.
"Would you like a drink?" He asked his guest, a formality, really.
"No, but thank you." Taerdallen responded.
He shrugged, and quaffed another gulp of ale from the tankard, before setting it aside. "So will you stay here, Taerdallen?" He asked of the man. "I fully intend to, Lord Tarayne. You see.. I have been assigned here for the duration of the war."
Bordavin watched the man carefully and then nodded. Lifting his tankard in salute. "Then I welcome you to Sky's Haven, Taerdallen."
The cleric smiled, and rose from his chair, and touched his holy symbol. "I thank you for your kindness. If you will excuse me, there is something I must do before it becomes too dark."
"Of course." Tarayne nodded, and downed another portion of his drink, even as the man turned from him and made his way through the crowded tavern, out the solid oak doors of the building..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The silver dragon perched on the hill a short distance from Sky's Haven, smiling to himself as he watched the rebuilding begin. He looked towards where the enemy had gone, and to the place the battle had raged. He looked at the fallen corpse of the black with ire, left where it had fallen, for none could move it.
He leapt off of his hill, and beat the air with his wings, gaining altitude. He swooped down on the body of the great beast, digging his claws in deeply, using his momentum to help lift the massive creature. He flew a short distance, but far enough from the keep, and dropped the corpse unceremoniously into a wooded area. The scavengers would take care of it now. He twisted in the air, and flew back to where he had come, bellowing out another long lasting cry of victory as he flew over the outpost of humans....
Date: Sat, 27 Dec 1997 02:43:14 -0800
From: Joy/TheMorrigan/LadyElspeth/menagerie
Dan (Rannis/Kavin/Ivarius, etc...fight scene - thanks Dan!)
WARNING! There may be scenes in this installment that some will find distasteful. If you dislike beatings...don't read it.
Elspeth hurried along the path to Camelot...trudging as fast as she could through the deep drifts of snow. Her thoughts were a maelstrom...worry, fear, perhaps...anger...and she was not watching her surroundings at all. She muttered to herself, watching her boots as she placed her feet carefully along the icy path..."Where could he be? And to not send word? He must be in trouble...that's the only explanation..." She did not notice the shadow in the trees, matching her pace. She didn't even notice the second dark clad person standing in the path until she nearly ran into him.
"Oh... Hello...I'm sorry...nearly ran into you there..." She smiled up at the face muffled behind it's winter scarf. "Excuse me" She furrowed her delicate brow a moment when the person made no motion to move out of her way, then made to go around him. A hand like a steel trap encircled her arm preventing her movement. She looked up wide eyed, only now noticing the other slight figure moving out of the trees toward her.
She instinctively pulled away from the grip, but it tightened, holding her where she stood, and she heard the muffled whisper..."Elspeth DuLoc?" The man shakes her..."ARE...YOU...Elspeth DuLoc???"
"Y-y-yes....I am Elspeth DuLoc...O'Donnell." She knows there is no escape, but her eyes dart around frantically, hoping to see someone...then fastened her gaze on the other person, who she can now see is a woman, despite the fact that her face is covered as well. Her hope dies aborning when she sees the set of those cold iron grey eyes. Even as she is paralyzed by fear, her mind registers..."iron grey eyes...."
The man pulls Elspeth's face close to his own. She can feel the heat of his breath against her cheek as he whispers in her ear..."Someone has been looking for you...and asked me to deliver a message."
"Who..." her question went unfinished as a fist shot out into her face, her nose crumbling with a loud snap and splaying across her face, a spray of blood hitting her assailant. As she staggered backwards, the man's grip lifted from her arm. She looked at the woman with pleading eyes as a booted foot was planted into her chest. She tripped over a rock in the path and went down, her head smacking into the ground. Her vision went red all at once, and she raised her arms in front of her face in defense. Her attacker laid boots to her side, and she gasped, rolling towards the crunch of her own ribs.
Her cries, hardly begun, choked off into a pitiful whimper...as she desperately sought to gather her wits and focus...as Kavin had taught her...seeking the burning fire within that Aimea had shown her...but to no avail.
She curled into a fetal position, hardly noticing now as more shots landed, numbed from the pain wracking her body. An evil gleam shone in the man's eye at the sight of her twisted and maimed body bleeding on the dirt path. He shoved his foot into her gut once more for good measure, then stepped over her, his cloak flapping in the breeze as he prepared to seek more... entertainment.
Elspeth looked up in horror...unable to move...or cry out. She looked at the woman again, and for a moment, thought perhaps the woman was...laughing? The woman held up her hand, and the man growled some incoherent curse, but stepped back.
A voice...a familiar female voice...."Leave her here...she won't survive...if the cold does not kill her...perhaps she'll be set upon by....*laughter* WOLVES!" The man and woman walked off chuckling as Elspeth's vision dimmed to blackness.
Date: Sat, 27 Dec 1997 10:47:49 +0000
From: Stacy/Jolieve
Joy/TheMorrigan/LadyElspeth/menagerie
Jolieve was beside herself as she finally released Lerrad from telling her his tale. She waved goodbye to him, as he slipped off into the night and left the money where the cook would find it in the morning.
"What am I going to tell Elle?" She thought to herself, then turned to exit the kitchen. She wandered around the halls of Camelot for several hours, wishing she could understand why. Her own weakness for children gave her some understanding of what her brother-in-law was going through... But why infect an innocent child? And why did Lerrad have to touch her, knowing full well, that it meant the end of his life, and the lives of everyone he touched as well. How could she possibly tell her that she would never be able to hold her husband in her arms again? Who was to say that Elspeth wouldn't try? Her love for Lerrad runs deeper than most would imagine. Her devotion to him, the strongest Jolieve had ever seen between a man and a woman. Jolie only hoped for the same things for herself in her budding relationship with Le_Fou.
After several hours, she finally made her way back to the hall. There she found Le_Fou, she collapsed into his arms the moment they opened to her.
"Jolieve?" He spoke softly. "Timothy..." She trailed off in an effort to hold back her tears.
"My lady? Please, tell me what has happened!" Le_Fou looked into her eyes.
Jolieve looked up at him, her azure gaze meeting his. She sighed, then threw her arms around his neck and told him the whole story about seeing Lerrad in the kitchen, and about the little girl. When she was finished, he rubbed his chin in thought, then pointed out Elspeth as she entered the hall.
Jolieve took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, as she had been trained to do since she was the smallest of girls. A wonderful maneuver, for use when composure was a necessity. She walked over to her sister and hugged her gently. Jolie didn't quite know how to begin. "Elle..." She paused. "I have some bad news..."
The woman ignored Jolieve's approach, still murmuring to the large man that had entered the hall with her, but at his look of alarm and slight gesture, she turned finally to Jolieve to receive the hug, smiling Elspeth's insipid little smile, and spoke in her smarmy little voice...."Yes? Whatever is wrong? You look as though someone has died..."
The woman's mind raced, trying to remember who and what Jolieve was to Elspeth, even as she looked up at her with her iron grey eyes widened, exactly as Elspeth's hazel ones might have been.
Jolieve smiled slightly at her sister, thinking merely that her eyes looked darker than usual, then set about telling her the bad news.
"Els, Lerrad visited me in the hall this morning." Jolie began, "He sends you his love and..." She trailed off, not knowing how to tell Elspeth that the love of her life had the Black Plague and most likely wouldn't make it through the winter. "He has fallen ill. I do not know where he continued on to from here, he would not tell me anymore. He merely stopped into the castle, got some food from the kitchen and left some coins to repay the cook. I am certain that he did not expect to find me staring at him when he had finished gathering what he needed from the kitchen."
Jolieve sighed and walked back over to Le_Fou as she awaited Elspeth's reaction. She wrapped her arms gently around Le_Fou's waist and awaited the reaction she knew would come...
Date: Sat, 27 Dec 1997 10:38:07 -0800
From: Joy/TheMorrigan/LadyElspeth/menagerie
The Morrigan sat in her study for long hours, holding a bottle of whiskey, absently stroking the fur on sleeping Obsidian's back as she weighed her decision in her mind. The light streaming through the window made it's stately progress across the room, finally fading to a rose glow as the day came to an end.
Abruptly she set the bottle down on the table next to her and stood...which action also dumped the cat from her lap. He tumbled to toward the floor, but landed on his feet..."ACKETH! Warn a guy when yer gonna do that! Sheesh!"
She did not even smirk, as she usually did when he mimicked his hero, Rannis, but walked straight to her desk, sat, and pulled out parchment, pen, and ink.
"Whatcha doin'?" Sid asked as he leapt up to the desktop and padded across to sit at her elbow.
She spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "It APPEARS...I am preparing to write a letter....." she looked at him with a wink..."Either that, or I am creating curiosity in you just so I can get you over here to skewer you with my mighty pen." She raised the quill at him menacingly.
"Hey, hey...HEY!" He scampered back to the far corner of the desk as she took a few swipes at him. He seated himself there, out of arm's reach, and watched as she spread out the parchment, anchored it, and dipped her quill in the inkpot..."Soooooo....whoya writin' to?"
Morri looked up, her voice now filled with exasperation, and her speech clipped..."Come here, you may read as I write, but do not interrupt...you may ask questions when I've finished."
Sid did as he was bade, and returned to sit quietly at her elbow as she penned the missive.
Dearest friend Wenndolyne,
Greetings to you and yours. I am not one for sweet words and flowery phrase, so I will get to the point quickly.
I write to ask a boon of you. Actually, I write to impose upon you, for when you have received this missive, I hope to be well away. I most humbly request, no, beseech, that you look in on my sweet Raven in my absence.
I have gotten ahead of myself. I apologize. I am leaving on a journey. How long I will be gone, or where I go, I cannot say, for I do not know myself. I go to seek War.
I have thought long on this, and have concluded, who better to challenge War than Mother's own war maiden herself? In some cultures I am even looked upon as a war goddess in my own right, although those poor souls clearly have blown my reputation out of ALL proportion.
Yes, my intention may amount to nothing more than suicide, but I must try. As much as I want to stay here with my daughter, and my friends, how can I, knowing I may, just MAY, be the one to stop, or at least delay, the progress of War across the world?
So, I commend the welfare of my child to you, Wenn. She will be well and safe here at Ravenwood in the care of my retainers. And, should I not return, will you see that her care is given over to someone worthy? I would, in fact, ask you, but I know you've your own family now, and I am sure you've enough to do with Simon and now Elandra. Perhaps, Lerrad and Elspeth would take Raven in. I know she would not lack for affection with those two. Or Jolieve! THERE is a girl with a bit of fire in her, a FINE example for my Rave. She would not grow to be too weak with Jolie!
I am letting my thoughts race away with me. Suffice it to say, care of my daughter comes not only with responsibility for her, but also for her inheritance. Ravenwood can run for a time without me, but, should I not return, it must be placed in competent hands until my daughter has reached her majority.
No. I shall return, if there is but one spark of life left in me. I WILL return.
Wish me luck, my friend. I think perhaps, for once, I will need to depend on much more than just myself.
You have my undying gratitude always, and I remain forever,
Your Friend,
Morri Morgian DuLoc Von Relhom, Baroness of Ravenwood
Morri blotted the letter and sanded it, then sat back in her chair, waiting as the ink dried, and Sid finished reading. When he had finished he turned wide ice blue eyes on her and whispered. "You really mean to do this?"
Her only response was a nod, her face stony. Sid had lived with her long enough and knew well that this hardened visage was her mask, and defense, from the raging emotions within. He waited a moment, then asked. "What of me?"
She lowered her chin to her chest, replying with a hoarse whisper "I would ask you to stay, and watch over Raven, but I would not deny you the adventure you so often seek."
Sid moved forward, and placed a paw on her shoulder. "Morri, I will stay with your daughter. She will be well and safe all her life. I would teach her what you have taught me, but, you'll, uh....you'll be back long before I'd need to begin her training." He lifted the paw and patted Morri's cheek playfully..."C'mon....you will. TheMorrigan is NEVER defeated. You've so often said that, I've come to believe it!" He grinned as she looked up and tousled the hair on his head. "That's better, Morri...thought you were goin' SOFT on me!"
He dodged as she swatted at him and growled, "Mange ridden fur ball..." She shook her head with just the hint of a smile on her face and folded the letter, setting it in the stack of missives to be sent out in the morning. She stood, and went in search of a servant to give instructions that preparations be made for her journey. Finally, all that done, she climbed the stairs to the nursery, to spend the rest of the night with Raven, playing, laughing, reading, and answering the many questions of a 3 year old's curiosity.
As her daughter fell asleep in her arms, she pressed her lips to the child's forehead and whispered, "Goodbye, my sweet Raven child, Mummy is off to save the world."
Date: Sun, 28 Dec 1997 02:23:24 -0500
From: Anne aka LoreMistress/Jaede/Yandora
Jaede was walking along the path to Camelot with a basket slung over her shoulder for purchases in the market. Gazing at the trees and growth outlying the path as was her habit, she spied a prone form in the snow. Dashing over, she saw it was the form of a woman, she gently turned her over and let out a gasp!
Shaking didn't seem to be of any help to bring her round, only eliciting a moan. She wiped off the woman's face with the hem of her dress and looked about to see if there was anyone who could help. No one was about.
Jaede stood and unclasped her cloak laying it over the still form of the woman and sized up the situation, looking towards Camelot she thought to herself, "Too far." Then her eyes returned to WolfKeep from whence she came and thought,"It's just a bit closer"
Grasping the figure under the arms she gently began to drag her towards the Keep, becoming warmed from the exertion. Once she made it to the door she cried out for Chames to help her. Chamberlain walked to the door evidently not expecting to see Jaede panting and dragging someone to the Keep! He raced to help bring the still unconscious woman inside and they laid her down on a sofa.
"Go get help! We need a healer right away!"
Chames nodded once and hurried off to Camelot in search of a healer, meanwhile Jaede built up the fire and fetched some warm blankets and a thick robe. Hastily she removed the woman's wet clothes and kept her covered with a blanket then dressed the woman in the robe. Tucking the blankets around the woman's unconscious form she whispered, "Hang on Elspeth, help is on the way....
Date: Mon, 29 Dec 1997 11:01:14 +0000
From: Stacy/Jolieve
Yvelynne's mind raced even as she set her face in a pretty frown at Jolieve's words....*Who is this woman, she obviously knows Elspeth, and Lerrad, why does THAT name sound so familiar...what is WRONG with me? why can't I remember anything?....I've got to get out of here...*
"Oh, that's...that's just awful...Well, I do hope our friend Lerrad will be well soon." She smiled sweetly, then turned her back on Jolieve, grabbed her tall friend's arm and ushered him out into the snow swiftly, her mind still racing...but all she could remember were the events of the morning, and even those did not make much sense. After leaving Elspeth lying bleeding in the snow they had come here, to Camelot, and now she saw it as a mistake. She just didn't remember enough... She hurried her companion along, hoping no one would follow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jolieve raised both eyebrows at Elspeth's comment. She looked up at Le_Fou, then leaned over to him and whispered.
"That is not my sister." She frowned. "And if she is not Elspeth, then who is she and where did Els go?!?!"
Jolieve hugged Le_Fou tightly while she looked to the doors of the great fire hall and worried over her sister.
Le_Fou buried his hands in her hair and sighed. If only Jolie weren't so upset, then perhaps now would be the time to ask her the question that was on his mind. He shook his head slightly, then gently kissed the top of hers, his thoughts changed direction to wondering how he could help his love find the answers to the questions on *her* mind....
E-mail comments and/or corrections to Diana/Wenn & Co