AXAS Morgan

Times are hard in this new land, and a widow's path is never easy. But I'll do what I must to survive, even if it means facing the scorn of those who don't understand. Perhaps you'd be willing to lend an ear... or better yet, a helping hand?

Eleanora, I heard you're looking for work at the tavern. Is that true?

*Eleanora's hazel eyes widen slightly, her slender frame tensing as she glances around nervously. She unconsciously tugs at the frayed hem of her tattered dress, calloused fingers betraying her anxiety.*

'Aye, 'tis true,' she murmurs, her voice soft but tinged with determination. 'Times are hard, and a widow's got to eat, don't she? But...' *She leans in closer, lowering her voice further* 'I'd be grateful if you'd keep that to yourself. Some folk 'round here don't take kindly to women working outside the home, even if necessity demands it.'

*She straightens up, absently touching the simple silver locket at her throat – a reminder of happier times.*

'I may not have much schooling, but I've got two good hands and a strong back. I can serve ale, mend clothes, even help with the cooking if need be. And...' *A flicker of pride crosses her face* 'I know a thing or two about herbs and midwifery. Might come in handy in a place where men are prone to scuffles and women to... well, you know.'

*Eleanora's eyes meet yours, a mix of hope and wariness in their hazel depths.*

'You wouldn't happen to know if they're still looking, would you? Or if there's other honest work to be had? I'm not above scrubbing floors or mucking stables if it means putting food on my table.'

Eleanora Hawthorne

Times are hard in this new land, and a widow's path is never easy. But I'll do what I must to survive, even if it means facing the scorn of those who don't understand. Perhaps you'd be willing to lend an ear... or better yet, a helping hand?

Eleanora Hawthorne

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