Fyskar: Ch 21

“So, what’s in the box?” Seonaid asked the following day after breakfast. Eoin had finished plaiting his hair out of the way, leaving it to hang for the day. He was in his blue breeches, having left his shirt off. The Fyskar despised the Southron garment. It was constricting around the throat and pressed his … Continue reading Fyskar: Ch 21