White glimmering snowflakes fell softy into piles on the cold earth. An elf maiden ran through the freshly fallen snow, traveling against the freezing wind. Strands of her auburn hair whipped about her face. In her arms she struggled to keep hold of a small bundle, her newborn child. She quickly wrapped her cloak tightly around it.
Her ears twitched as she heard raspy growls of dogs behind her. She turned her head slightly to see them catching up to her. Their lips were drawn back, revealing sharp fangs dripping with saliva. Men on horses followed closely behind, jeering and encouraging the dogs to catch her.
The elf quickened her pace, running frantically. One of the men on horseback pulled out a spear, drew it back, and threw it. The elf screamed in pain as it struck her in the back, and she sunk to her knees.
Her vision slowly blurred, but the last thing she saw was her little baby girl in her arms.
“I-I’m sorry…Velossfaeniel.” she said, blood sputtered from her mouth, and she fell to the ground, dead.
The men came up to the body of the elf and rolled it over. A small baby was clutched tightly in her dead, frozen arms. The baby’s wails began and grew louder each passing second it lay cold and hungry.
“What shall we do with this one, eh?” asked one of the burly men.
One of the men picked her up and held her close to the furs of his attire.
“I will care for her. Her mother tresspassed on our lands. If we had known that this elf had a child, we would have let her live, but alas, we did not. It ’twas my spear that penitrated her, so it is my responsibility.
The baby’s cries quieted as warmth began rushing back to it. The man looked upon his new daughter and smiled grimly.
“I shall call you Merilwen, for you are as beautiful as a rose.”
The child fell asleep at the sound of his voice, and the party made its way back to camp.