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Written for the Tolkien_Weekly ‘Warm Drinks and Roaring Fires’ challenge. **************************************************************
The other man, leaning heavily on a spear, limped after him. “How long since this beacon was lit?” “Many years.” “So I am sent to guard a heap of wood, since I am left fit for naught else.” Snow fell like ashes on his black hair. “You were sent here to watch for a signal; I see no dishonor in being a scout.” |
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