She felt the zipper of her dress going down. She looked at them questioning them. They said nothing, just continued lowering the zipper. They slowly s...id her dress down till it rested at her elbows, exposing the black lace and her hard nipples. The room was cold, she shivered making her rosey circles tighten painfully. She wanted to cover herself. Other then what she had done back at the restaurant earlier she had never been this intimate with another woman…let alone two of them. The girls made. “Why not write about his life rather than his death?”Katrin considered that. The leader of the Jol’s Brook refugees had been a decent person and a hard worker, a man who was just trying to get by in a situation that kept growing steadily worse. He wasn’t some great hero out of legend, but then, he didn’t have to be. He was what the refugees had needed at the time. Maybe she could work with that somehow—a requiem rather than a lament. He deserved to be memorialized. She just hoped he wouldn’t. More

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