Windows Into the Fair
I wrapped my face against the cold morning. These southern climes had nothing on the cold northern slopes of home, but could still leave a body chilled. Especially when the body isn't the one I came in on. I hate the soft, small body of the boy I wear. I long for the huge, muscled frame I was born with. No respectable Jarl would be found following such a small southerner. No longer am I Einarr the Giant. Now I am simply Firdaus.
