The moon shone iridescently in the night sky as it hung, full and bright, amongst the stars. She was so beautiful, the moon, but her presence reminded me too much of him and the pain of the past. Hindsight is always 20/20, but I should have known better than to let myself fall into the temptation that I did.
Now I lay here, in the dark of night with only the moon and a small fire to brighten its darkness as I pondered the most dangerous of thoughts: the 'what-ifs'. Because of one raid and a plethora of my own mistakes, I was void of love, and without the bonds of friendships and sisterhood. I let a tear slip down my smooth, pale cheek. Because of my own stupidity, all I had left was my dear cousin, Irithan.
Irithan laid at my feet, buried deep in a woolen sleeping bag with his thick warrior arms wrapped tightly in a cloak. His lengthy red hair was sprawled out about him like a lion's mane, and his usually bright green eyes were shut to rest. He snored softly and held a tight fist around the hilt of his sword. Just like Irithan, I thought. Always on the defense.
I laid down and burrowed in my own sleeping bag just like him, then glanced pensively back up to the moon. It all began on a night just like this.