Vinyalonde

The other day as I was sketching beside the hearth in the healing halls, I saw an elleth, whom I had never seen before, enter. I assumed she came for fair Eliriael, but since she was not in the hall, I thought it best to seem focused on my drawing. Yet, I watched her from where I sat. She looked quite austere at first with a crisp, clean, deep blue robe without a fold out of place and her hair tied neatly away from her face.

I woke after what felt like a cold, endless night. It took a long time for me to orient myself; my eyes recognized none of my surroundings and the sensations that accompanied them. Soft linen sheets encapsulated me and a warm glow like the radiance of sunlight beneath a canopy of trees illuminated the large hall. I could hear the distant chirping of birds and the meanderings of a breeze.

It was a long time before I saw another elf.

Well… he didn’t like that brute.
He still couldn’t believe it: master had given him the task to help out in the coming hunt.
The hunt itself wasn’t the point, but Farothir had a good intuition.
And his intuition told him that things were just going to get worse.