Gallery/asharas

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asharas:The singers of the forest had no books. No ink, no parchment, no written language. Instead t

asharas:A long time ago, she remembered her father saying that when the cold wind blows the lone wol

asharas: Let me live long enough to see the boy sit on the Iron Throne.

asharas: The singers of the forest had no books. No ink, no parchment, no written language. Instead

asharas: beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command

asharas: the bird sings as if to say that delight is easy, for those who desire it

asharas: What bothers you more, stepmother? That I am common, or that I am competition?

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