Mistress Temperance Blythe
The fields once green now bear no wheat, only men that walk though slain. Each body keepeth its wound as a farmer his plough, yet onward they go, bound by unseen chains. No cry doth they utter, nor curse, nor groan—only the sound of feet upon earth t...
Those that March Page Mistress Temperance Blythe - on New World Guide Database of Lore
The fields once green now bear no wheat, only men that walk though slain. Each body keepeth its wound as a farmer his plough, yet onward they go, bound by unseen chains. No cry doth they utter, nor curse, nor groan—only the sound of feet upon earth that shall not rest. When night falleth they turn toward the living, as if called by some harvest yet unfinished.
