For the "Change in the Weather" challenge at Tolkienweekly.
Winter swept from the north on grey gull wings. Chill waves furrowed the grass, while the branches above surged and heaved in a golden tempest of leaves.
The elven woman weighed down the hill with her stillness, her black hair streaming like the banner from a mast. As she faced into the storm, her long cloak flapped like a poorly-trimmed sail.
"Bear me away with these words," she whispered to the wind. "Bear me away across the sea; take me beyond the walls of this world." There was no answer, only an echo of the waves' song in the trees.