MARIAN E. WRIGHT WRITING CENTER

Serving students and faculty since 1971

Gragnar, the raging orc, sat awkwardly hunched over a sheet of rough parchment, his thick fingers
gripping the quill with surprising care. His heart, usually fueled by the fury of battle, now pounded with a
different kind of tension—one he wasn’t used to. He was writing a love letter, but not to any noble
healer or human. No, this was far more delicate. His affection was aimed at Zylia, the most enchanting
dragonfly he had ever seen.


Zylia wasn’t like any other insect in the meadow by the river where Gragnar sometimes wandered to
escape the clamor of his life. She was mesmerizing, with shimmering wings that caught the sunlight in a
thousand brilliant shades. Her iridescent body glowed in hews of blue and green that made Gragnar
think of the deep forests he fought to protect. And her movements—oh, how graceful she was as she
flitted above the water’s surface! How she darted, dipped, and danced through the air left him in envy
and awe. But what captured his heart was her resilience, refusal to be caught by any predator, and
endless energy, always just out of reach.


Gragnar scratched his chin, thinking hard about what to write. He had to get this right. Zylia was no
ordinary insect—she deserved words that reflected her unique beauty and strength. “I’ve never met a
creature so fearless,” he muttered, imagining her delicate wings cutting through the air with precision
and purpose.


Careful not to mention anything that might upset her—he knew she feared the birds that lurked near
the riverbanks—he focused instead on her courage and grace. “Shall I compare thee to a fleeting
breeze?” he wondered aloud, trying to summon the poetry of his heart. “No, no,” he grumbled, “you are
more… a force of nature, untouchable and wild.”


Gragnar wanted to include something personal that would make Zylia understand that she had done the
impossible—captured the heart, once made of stone, of an orc who had once been indifferent to the
buzzing world of insects. His mind wandered to the fireflies that blinked across the meadow at dusk.
“Once, I thought them bothersome,” he scribbled, “but now they remind me of your glowing wings, of
how you bring light to my once glorious nights.”


Satisfied yet nervous, he looked down at his letter. It was short, simple, and, he hoped, enough to
express his feelings to Zylia. Feelings that were so alien to him. He admired her strength, beauty, and
free spirit, all things he couldn’t resist. He only hoped that she might feel even the tiniest flicker of the
same affection when she received his message.