┋The Southern People, or Suths as they called them, had been rummaging around their lands for months now. They came on great, big ships and brought with them fire and blood.
The Suths would argue that they were provoked, that their kin were mowed down by arrows and spears, though they had been warned far before that… they were not welcome.
With these thoughts in mind, he prowled through the forest, eyes fixed on this single Suth woman, alone and heading for a clearing.
It was a cold morning. The lands were drowning in the mists, and few of the usual fauna made their presence known. There were no chirping birds, no roars or howls in the distance. The sky gazed, distant and unfazed, oldened by the grey clouds.
She reached the clearing and pulled out her bow. She could not know he was there. He readied his spear and lifted his shield from the ground and as he tunnelled in on her figure, he started to sing, quietly.
Gafflwn Dihenydd, o’r fuddugol yn wiriol sydd.
Ni fydd neb yn ein Drechu, Falch ydy ni i drochu,
Traed o flaen i’r Annwn, mewn y gwybodaeth fe godwn ni.
He dashed from behind a bush and screamed, charging. She turned, almost instantly, and nocked an arrow. He raised his shield and she jumped backwards, as her arm drew back the string. He pushed against the ground and threw the spear up, as his arm twisted to catch it, ready for the throw.
Her arrow darted past the edge of his shield, for his chest. No matter, he thought in the moment, as long as he could make the kill. ┋
✠ Thank you to my wife, Ryanna, for the support and for posing with me! Check her Flickr by clicking on her name!