She was no stranger to waiting, after all. Her man had always made her wait.
Swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Quick as a snake. Calm as still water.
Dark wings, dark words.
The true horrors of human history derive not from orcs and Dark Lords, but from ourselves.
Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities.
We only make peace with our enemies. That's why it's called making peace.