That elven lady, Nimlith, she was. From that sweet, calm gathering of theirs.
I met her again
There, in my secret place, surrounded by the oldest of the ancient trees, she stood and played her harp and I could not but listen
And then she stopped. And hailed me, smilingly
And we talked. Well, I did, mostly
For there I found myself telling about my sorrow... about the loss of the voice the woods and winds used to have... telling about that the way I never have done before with anyone
And she listened and it felt like the nature itself had joined her in that, and suddenly I knew that the voice, the calm breathing of earth was still there, now with her, as it had always been. And as she spoke, she made me realize I was the one who needed to listen more carefully, and to find that call from the hearts of my own kind
I will follow her advice. I will listen
