The candle couldn't be lit fast enough. Her hands quivered stubbornly despite the frustrated cursing in the tongue of the horse-lords that dripped from her breath. Again and again, the sparks flew, but the flame refused to capture the tiny wick. Thinking that perhaps it was her tremulous breathing that was the enemy, she bit her lips together and held it. Another flick of the steel, and the candle sputtered slowly to life at last.
Within the tiny womb of golden light she huddled, a finger peeling back the seal on the letter. The world beyond the candle's halo shrank into a deep, dark silence, and for a few minutes, ceased to exist.
Her eyes could not race swiftly enough over the scrawled words, but snatched and tore at them, hurrying them greedily into her mind to be tested and examined.
When she came to the close, a shaky breath was released. Her jaw trembled, and for a moment her eyes threatened to blur with tears. Blinking desperately to clear her vision, she read the letter again more slowly.
She sat for a while then, with the letter clutched so tightly that the parchment was somewhat crumpled in her grip. She waited for the tempestuous clamor of thoughts to expend itself, and leave behind a quieter mind with which to decide what to do. The letter was reluctantly surrendered to the bedside table, and from its drawer she withdrew a blank sheet along with ink and quill.
The previous letter still lay in the drawer, folded neatly, tenderly preserved. But it had lacked a crucial thing that had prevented her from answering it. Now, as she dipped the quill into the ink and glanced at the newer missive, a tiny, sad smile graced her lips.
"The Blackbird Soothery
Knotwood, Bree-land
To the attention of Aeruthuil..."
