''I try to write as often as I can, but lately it was not in my power to create the time to do so. Therefore these pages have remained empty for several days, perhaps even weeks.

Filrean had set up camp for the night, amongst a few trees on an outcrop set above the campsite of the elves below at Eavespires.  Her fire was built and a small area set out for sleeping beside her sword, bow and quiver of arrows, she kept her hunting dagger at her side as always.  As she settled down into a comfortable seating position she watched a boat moving across the water, two passengers both in hooded cloaks, she was not going to sleep yet.

The sweet dream-smoke curls like ink in water as it snakes upward. She watches it silently with her blue almond eyes, tracking its languid progress.She holds her body alert, wary of my intentions. I lean forward, offer her her a glass of fine red wine. We sit quietly together, sipping the wine. What else can she do?