[ Written on actual letter paper (for once), kindly given by Xanderian. ]

Lif,

One thing Dem had always liked about any relationship he had ever had was the pillow talk. That time before sleeping cuddled under the blankets talking about anything that came to mind. Most times it was of what they did over the past few days, a time of catching up, airing concerns or sometimes being silly. In fact, Dem considered it one of his most favorite times of the day. Tonight was no exception.

          The Grand Hall of Torech Besruth echoed with a welcoming mixture of voices and talk as the members of the Household gathered for a council.  Kortheod and Ingrasion were getting acquainted with the newcomer Iyenue in the Library.  Boghadair and Aifiolossë stood near the Scullery as

The tall and broad man sits quietly at the wooden table towards the back of the pub, tucked behind the bar where no one could see. He has slept there a few days now, homeless as a stray. Though it is only so long before someone finally found him, leaning over the table flipping through the pages of a leather bound book. It’s a young lass, a Bree-Lander, wandering around, tipsy and curious.

"I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again."

- Anaïs Nin

I look at the page before me. It was untouched, unmarked. And now it has my scratchy ink lines on it. The writing looks unsure to me, whether the lines should be there or not. A fraudulent attempt by one of the very many who was never taught the art?