A/N: In the german version, this is a one-and-a-hal-drabble (150 words). But since this is a translation, the words don't fit exactly.
I had the idea of a story about moors since I first set my foot into one 2 years ago.Thiswill be a "mini-series2 of drabbles about Eowyn (and Grima, somehow)with moor in them.The others will be added later.I hope you enjoy!
MOOR EYES
Her eyes met his', only for the briefest moment, and, like any other time, she had to think of moor water. He had eyes like moor water. Exactly like moor water.
Moor eyes.
Treacherous, tricky. Ugly, black, she tried to convince herself, that's why they remind me of it! In the old days, treachers were sent to moor… (she had heard old people in the city say that once.)
That's why! That's why they remind me of a moor, she assured herself.
And, at times, she even believed it.
But still night after night she dreamed of dangerous, swaying paths through forbidden land, of the enticing golden glistening of sunlight on black waters, of soft, tenderly rocking ground under her feet and finally of the irresistable nameless power that drew her inexorably down to black depths, into a warm wet death, snugged into eternal earth's embrace.
At morning her waking mind called it a "nightmare", but something deep inside her knew better.
THE END.
So, did you like it? What about a review then?