"My dear child, fret not for I promise my return. Your sweet little face freckled with kisses from our ancestors, your eyes like blades of grass with morning dew, your locks of fiery amber waving from their roots. I forget not this mold of yourn, t'will forever linger around and dance with my memory." spoke Cador parting with beloved Elowin. Child born of four springs of passing years, endearing daughter to a passionate father was being left behind with her dearest mother, Katell. Katell is dainty in compare to her rugged, raspy voiced consort. She stands at a short stature of 5'2, with hair a copper brown. Her eyes are like the whirling ocean, with hints of sunlit skys at dawn; skin is pure without foible, so fair it's nearly the color of snow. He, a towering bloke at 5'9, with a broad set body and stern face with kind eyes.
Cador, initially planning to raise a karl family, was now taking the roll of a strong willed and noble drott.
"Darling,my dear, y'are one to behold. When I return here, hopefully I have not grown old. My love for y'will be forever burning, and my body while away, shall be continually yearning." he spills as he holds onto Katell. With that final goodbye he goes to set sail, with his Viking brethren to find land with which they may prevail.
YOU ARE READING
Flowers to Elowin
General FictionCador, drott to a group of Norse seafarers, disembarks on a journey with hope of stumbling upon flourishing terrain. He leaves behind a precious soul, one he yearns to see once more.
