Lindon

I looked upon the stranger as if he came out of a vision, a dream, an omen. In the quiet of the forest, where all the noises are familiar to me, there was one I could not recognize. I hid behind a tree, alert and afraid and I waited. I kept my gaze on a patch of darkness in front of me, my eyes used to see through the faint light of rānā and the stars. I held my breath as the darkness slowly receded and a halo made its way towards me. 

(written from Histealdo's pov)

Histealdo glimpsed the new "resident" of the havens standing near a low stone wall, staring at something that seemingly only he could see. He had a couple brief conversations since the young ellon (Naergon he recalled) came to be a semi-permanent resident of his home. He had no objection when his niece asked to host her friend until he made the decision to sail West. He understood, being torn himself for a time after his brother took the ship. 

Ship's harbour, Mithlond, two summers ago

Earcalie was sat on a bench lazily watching the hustling and bustling of the elves at he port busy carrying crates, sails, shouting over the noise, all this while she was munching on some oat biscuits when she heard a louder noise, coming from her immediate vicinity

"WOOF"

Forlond bay, a few centuries ago

"Atya, atya look! Look! It flies!" the elfling exclaimed excitedly at the sight of a ship leaving the harbour, gradually gaining speed as it entered open sea. Aicasicil chuckled and patted his daughter's head. "It floats, not flies. Ships float"

"Ships fly! Vingilot flies, you told me the story yesterday!" 

I loathe sea travel — I have only rarely willingly set foot on a ship since I stepped from our ill-gotten fleet and passed into Beleriand with my brethren many long ages ago. Every time I must, I hope never to do so again until a ship comes that will willingly bear me to Valinor. 

9 summers ago, coast of Forlindon

Earcalie was never one to be lazying about, finding it a waste of time that she could employ doing something productive instead. There were exceptions of course, like that day. During winter time the shipment requests down the coast died down, there were few caravans to escort and generally everyone bunkered down to wait the good season. As it was an unusually warm day, the elleth thought to go for a ride, so she took her reluctant horse out of the stable, and off they went.