Idfk if I named the castle city, but its hearthome.
Reagan's head pounded as she stumbled along the grassy undergrowth. She had lost her shoes miles ago. When she had woken up, lying in a clearing, she had decided to walk around and try to find help. Her hair was a ball of knots. All she wished was to be back in her castle, full from a meal of meat and bread, accompanied by light wine. She missed her family most of all. Mother, Father, Little Elena and Willhelm, Bran and Renn...... and even those who she could not claim as hers by blood. Her pony Emily, her handmaids, her septa's.....
Stop it Reagan, get a grip. Find someone to help you.
She limped slowly down the worn path, her heels cracked and bleeding.Her lip was cut, she could taste the wet copperyness in her mouth.
Don't shoot me! Really short but another coming really soon!
