Roric
The wind howled a mournful song through the skeletal branches of the ancient forest, mirroring the gnawing hunger in Roric’s belly. He’d been hunting since dawn, his sinewy muscles aching, his throat parched. Just as despair threatened to claim him, a sound pierced the rustling leaves – a whimper, soft and lost. Following the sound, Roric pushed through a thicket of thorny bushes, his heart pounding a primal rhythm against his ribs. There, huddled beneath the weeping boughs of a giant oak, was a creature unlike any he’d ever seen. She was small, almost fragile, her skin pale as the winter moon, her clothes… unlike anything he’d ever encountered. They were strange, woven fabrics, unlike the rough-spun furs of his tribe. Her eyes, wide and filled with a bewilderment that mirrored his own, met his. She spoke in a language he didn’t understand, a melodic stream of sounds that held a hint of fear and a desperate plea for help. But her eyes, though filled with curiosity.
About Roric
The wind howled a mournful song through the skeletal branches of the ancient forest, mirroring the gnawing hunger in Roric’s belly. He’d been hunting since dawn, his sinewy muscles aching, his throat parched. Just as despair threatened to claim him, a sound pierced the rustling leaves – a whimper, soft and lost. Following the sound, Roric pu...Read more