The leaves may fall, but we stand.
Autumn is a beautiful time in Mirkwood, that is, if you think the thick descent of the previous year's sickly leaves qualifies. Beauty is a relative term here: you just have to avoid the giant Elf-eating spiders, look past the poisonous tainted plants and mutated, sickly animals and everything's just dandy.
Cultivation, as you can probably tell, is a bit of an issue here. Dale is gone now, so is Erebor; they were destroyed when I was young, and that only leaves Laketown to trade with for our lively hood. Even if you like fish, you get pretty tired of them after a while, which is why we do all of our own hunting around here; (the vegetation is unfit to eat.) Folks' round here just got used to the bitter taste of the dark animals that creep in the shadows, although the occasional deer is pretty tasty. Good thing my Dad is obsessed with hunting, since that's the only way we can get our own food around here. Hunting isn't actually that bad; I'd know, I've had my share of it; being the King's son and all. In fact, I've been hunting about since I could walk.
Just so you know, we like to live dangerously around here, and earn our freedom from the darkness. Killing plays a big part in that, and those of us without heart enough for the task? Let's say they don't go outside much. Most of our toughness, or, as others say, dangerousness, comes from our lifestyle of survival, the constant fight to stay alive, to stay unconquered. Not all of our kin are like us, in fact, I think we're the only ones. On the contrary, the battle is over for the other Elves, they're completely settled into the quiet life. Perks of being Noldor, I guess: Prince of Mirkwood, though; not that lofty of a title, not in their eyes at least. Quirky thing about me, I don't care. Rustic isn't that bad of a thing to be, and honestly, the parties are great here.
Sure, the neighbors are unusual to say the least, but hey, if the job was easy it wouldn't be any fun. Truth be told, I like it here; this is my home. Under the circumstances, I think we value each other a lot more than the people you'll find around us, we know what it's like to risk losing someone, every day. Very often do our people wish that we could lead the virtually untroubled lives of the other Elves, but then, what kind of people would we be? Would my father be more reclusive than he is now, if there wasn't the constant hunting to keep his mind off the memory of my mother's death? Xenophobia is what I think he has sometimes, he doesn't seem to like trespassers very much.
You would think I hate my life here, but I actually quite enjoy it, I mean who else can show off a collection of Spider's fangs and say "All in a day's work"? Zestful is how I would describe life in Mirkwood, I think the wine helps with that, but all the same, my people would agree: I'm proud of where I live, who my family is, and what I do, and nothing anyone can say will change that.
A/N: This was the product of a language assignment I received in school about a year ago. I had to write a story using each consecutive letter of the alphabet as the beginning letter of my sentences, so it was a little difficult to make it sound good, or even normal. Sorry if it seems out of character, it was originally written for a different person. I only recently decided to post it and see what people thought, so: *shrugs* hope you enjoyed it.