Laureleila

The Child is one of Rome's. He does not trust the Child, if only because the Child is one of Rome's. He remembers Rome, far too well. He remembers fruitlessly attacking the plate armor only to be thrown against a tree; remembered his mother screeching obscenities and laid curses and swore oaths as the knife was pressed to his neck and she leapt upon Rome like a wolf. He heard a rumor that Rome was raised by wolves. He speaks and acts as they do, but alone and fearful, plotting and fidgety. No wolf can kill Rome. But he does not trust the Child-belonging-to-Rome, he does not want the Child on his land and he does not wish to ever see anoth

The Welsh wybren sounded much better than the English sky, John "Ronald" Reuel Tolkien thought instinctively as a small patch of blue opened up in the smoke-choked air above. He shifted, staring at it, as if in holding it in his gaze he might be able to keep it from disappearing completely. He stared intently at it for about a minute, but a little cloud of smoke and dust soon veiled it from his sight, the sky and air becoming once again a dark, stifling cloak that seemed to hang threateningly over the heads of everyone in the trench. Ronald grimaced, and then repositioned himself, facing the line of German troops a couple hundred yards away