Dragoncrest Cliffs sezi

Njord’s sweet words seemed to pacify the young girl as she quietly sniffled. How confusing it must be for her, the father thought. Not confusing because she didn’t understand it – Mireille was smart as a whip – but confusing because of the emotions.

“There she is,” Njord said softly when his daughter (in his eyes, for he loved her like a daughter) pulled back, the waterworks momentarily stopped. He cleared his throat and began to sing a sea chanty.

Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly,
Blow the wind south o'er the bonny blue sea;
Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly,
Blow bonnie breeze, my lover to me.

Is it not sweet to hear the breeze singing,
As lightly it comes o'er the deep rolling sea?
But sweeter and dearer by far when 'tis bringing,
The ship of my true love in safety to me.

Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly,
Blow the wind south o'er the bonny blue sea;
Blow the wind southerly, southerly, southerly,
Blow bonnie breeze, my lover to me.