This, which I remember clearly, was when I was commisioned my break from The Rangers for a week, or so. The Lady has asked I do the same, for all Rangers within the kin. Anyway, I was sitting across from Celurin, and I remembered the tale of "Beren and Luthien".

I remember this of woe. It was when I was asked to remove a fell spirit from a barrow in Bree-land, of where I do not tread lightly. The beast cast a spell upon me, that would not allow my wounds to heal, and left a shadow across my vision for two days.

One of the valiant in my kindred, a Galadhrim Sentry guarding Talain Haldir.

Such wonders there are in my homeland, this is but one: Celurin, the fountain at the centre of Caras Galadhon!

Talain Haldir is well known amongst my people. It is the residence, albeit tempoary, of my direct superior, Haldir.

The realms of the Naugrim are...strange, at best...truely enough, I was wandering when I came across this Elf-stone, of purest Crystal and Beryl, glimmering in the dark. Such beauty I have seen afore at Lorien, but it was such a rememberance, in the dark and gloom, I simply cannot forget.

The region of Eregion called Tham Mirdain, though overrun, has it's own evils....I saw this painted upon the wall, and felt the gloom of history fall upon me. It portrays Annatar, Lord of Gifts, and Celebrimbor making The Rings of Power, such which I am not well versed in.

I was being escorted through....well, I seem to have forgotten the locale...it was a Dwarven settlement, at least. And I saw this. My guide, though stubborn enough to stray off the path, explained that it was a find of a lifetime! Needless to say, I wish it had been considerably smaller so that I could gift it to Malainel!

Such is the world of boredom growing, and might and reason slowing that I sought a quick release from it all, so I painted this; a replica of my arrows, commonly used in Lothlorien. ((OOC: Please ignore the...blatantly large signature I foolishly put it, will upload a version without it soon))

I remember this well, I was out on a terribly long Hunting venture, in the Ettenmoors. The conflict was not for me, so I headed Southwards. Coming across an Elk, I drew my bow to chin-length, and released. Suddenly, the Elk ran off! Sure that I had hit my target, I ran after it; only to find this warg, hunched up, lying in it's place.