Cedar Sweep Ghost Train

His reassurances served him well, it was a hook, line, and sinker. Gracious could only imagine a place like Tindómë, a place where she would feel at home for once. The misty woman felt her heart beat like a steady drum against her ribcage, filled with excitement and a bit of anticipation. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but the thought of a warm home and den to sleep in already baited her to just go along with the man.

When he spoke of the king elk and his cow, she was intrigued by the thought. She appreciated it no less, the idea of letting the elk, the one who probably has lived the longest, keep the herds in order. Gracious almost wanted to see this king herself; she could hardly imagine how many branches his antlers split off into. Before she could cast herself away into a dream-like state of thought, the woman thought it would be best to make her decision now.  "I'd be flattered to follow you back," she said happily, "your home sounds like a place of paradise to me." Gracious was almost the optimist, she could only pray her expectations would be met.

She stood up, shaking off her pelt gently to release the snowflakes that had been creating a ridge on her. "Oh, where are my manners? I haven't even told you my name," she chided herself as her lips curled upwards into a smile, "I'm Gracious, Gracious Orlov."