from the Tolkien Weekly prompt, "coastland.
When he first appeared, with hair like kelp, long, matted, dripping, and black as the depths, the village elders were cautious. "See how he wanders along," they said, "nary a footprint behind him! And always singing."
She approached him in the evening, on behalf of the village, as the sun bled on the waves, bringing warm biscuits, tea, and her own comb.
He only used one hand; the other had been scorched by hellfire. When he finished eating and brushing his wet, sandy hair, he returned her things, smiled waveringly, and climbed to his feet.
He was gone by morning.
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