The Seagull and the Wind by The Wavesinger

The Seagull and the Wind

As the Sun withdraws from Aman, shadows deepening across the land, the last ray of light glints off Elwing's tower. Below, a seagull flies alone, dancing across the water, flying in what can only be called pure joy.

The wind dances with the bird, it seems, ruffling its feathers, holding it aloft even through the most reckless of dives. The gull skims its wings across the water before fleeing into the sky; the sea ripples as the wind follows. It is an eternal chase.

Night falls, and the gull alights in the tower, and now a woman half-hangs out of the window, laughing as the wind caresses her face.

The deepening dark hides even this, and now there is nothing to be seen. But if the night had eyes (and some say it does) it can see two women dancing, every night outside the tower, held up as if by the very breeze.