


Theoden wrote:Where now are the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the harp on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the deadwood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?


Theoden wrote:Where now are the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the harp on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the deadwood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

VineStar12 wrote:District 9 | Josslyn Foxwood | Tribute
Grant was most amusing, actually. He kept talkig on ad on and on. I thought I'd never get a word in! "I'm from District 9," I answer his furst question with a nod. "And yes, I'd much rather wear my hunting outfit than this... girly dress. I feel like a stupid fake," I roll my stormy grey eyes. "You do talk a lot, Grant. Do you not know how to talk to a girl? You don't eed to be nice. I know how to deal with boys," I smirked playfully at him.
District 11 | Jesse Black | Tribute
I stood in the darkest corner I could find, my black hair covering one of my blue eyes. I watched the TV screen as it replayed reapings from today. I wore something that flattered how I looked. My stylist said it was bold, but I looked gothic. Eyeliner, black T-shirt with punk leather jacket, spike bracelets, a long chain that connected from one point of my belt to the other, and black boots.


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