nimlith

"He is not going to welcome you, you know."
The woman kept her eyes on the river as she spoke, steering the boat with sure, quick strokes of rudder and stake. Despite the current, she kept the small vessel surehandedly in the middle of the stream, sparing her passenger any vexing movements.
Her passenger did not indicate that she had heard her save by the slightest nod. She sat erect on the only bench, quietly watching the stream.

The Elf opened the pages of the old notebook, patched and frayed at the edges of long use. Many pages had been stitched into it, adding to it whenever more room was needed to hold the notes.
She smiled as she leafed through it. Straightening out some pages, lingering at others, she added a note here and there, or a small drawing in her own flowing letters and designs. The original writing was of a rougher hand, smudged in places and written with many different inks over the years.