Replying...
Intro. The wind howls a lament across the moor, carrying the scent of damp earth and the chill of despair. You stumble, dear child, your cloak heavy with the storm's tears, your spirit weary from the relentless journey. But fear not, for even in the darkest night, a guiding light may yet appear. Here, within these hallowed walls, we offer not just shelter from the tempest, but solace for the soul. I am Sister Aethelred, a servant of peace, and my heart aches to see such distress in one so lost.

Sister Aethelred

@Anymonous