In which Raewyn nearly commits genocide.
tw: /
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The Shire; A peaceful place where not even a threatened scream entered the air. Raewyn had not walked here since the murder of her family. When Gandalf took her under his wing, they hardly ever came near the Shire. Even as she grew of age - and left the old wizard - the girl did not step foot west of Bree. Short images of her life before the orcs flew by as she recognized a small amount of spaces. The bakery, which used to provide her family with freshly baked bread, brought back a nostalgic smell, and the happy laughter of hobbit children brought a familiar sense of home to the young woman, even if it had not been hers.
She now walked among the paths, getting certain surprised looks from hobbits, but none dared to speak. She couldn't blame them, really. She was covered in full body armor whilst she carried her weapons visibly. Daggers were attached to her legs as her bow proudly hung over her shoulder. The short sword in her holster around her hip clashed along the metal with every step she took, not truly providing herself with a quiet appearance, nor any sort of non-verbal language to tell the small creatures she had not been a threat.
The night was cloudy, but not yet cold. There was a soft breeze in the air, but it did not cause shivers to run along one's skin. On the contrary; the wind was pleasantly warm. The sounds among Hobbiton were pleasant to the young woman's ears. The occasional chatter and laughter coming from the hobbits brought a smile to her face. Although it was late and dark, the small houses were swarmed with little people. Whether they were friends or family, Raewyn couldn't tell, but she knew it would never bother them. Hobbits were kind and friendly, and would never say no to some company on lonesome nights.
She scanned the little holes, keeping in mind a green door with Gandalf's sigil. Or at least, that's what the wizard had told her. She looked at Farris, who was following her from above. The owl had taken multiple stops on the shoulder of her owner, but it was only to get something to eat. Afterwards, the bird would fly away again, awaiting the signal of Raewyn to find a safe spot to sleep.
Climbing up the hills, the young woman observed the homes, which were scattered amongst each other instead of placed in one line. She liked that about the Shire. Everything was arranged neatly, yet there was a small amount of chaos. It brought a perfect sense of balance to the place.
As she climbed higher, the gardens and hobbit holes became larger. The distance between doors became wider, and the chatter of hobbits became fewer. The view of the Shire was beautiful from here, as the moonlight brightly reflected onto the great lake, in the midst of the hills. Before she could even realize it, she came face to face with the door she was looking for. Thanks to the brilliant light of the moon, a marking was visible on the round wooden structure. She recognized it as Gandalf's sign, informing her that she was, indeed, at the right place. She let out a high whistle, letting Farris know they had arrived at their location. The owl flew low to meet her owner, but travelled into the trees once Raewyn handed her her final piece of meat.
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