:: Ignoring Legolas' invitation to join him and Anchanti, I look up into the branches of the tree Athailia climbed, and lift myself up, seating myself besides her.
:: Aye, guttre untal estrel plata.. ye lunan tambien.*
:: Speaking softly to myself, staring up at the clouding sky with more than a touch of melancholy... Brushing a strand of gold behind my ear, I glance downwards, watching the two silently, before leaning slightly towards Athailia.
:: Why is he now open to speaking of his past? Could it be that he is... moving on...?
:: Leaning back against the sun-warmed trunk of the tree, I sigh, shutting my eyes... I had once told myself I was moving on... A fine job I've done of my promise so far... I think wryly, wanting to shoot myself for any past promises I haven't fullfilled..... Or have I? Just in a different light?
:: Perhaps I have fullfilled a long past promise.. Yet am afraid to think of it, for another thinks not of me in any way...
(*Aye, I hate the silvery stars... and the blasted moon too.)
(she is speaking of the alignment of the cosmos, which is bringing her a deeper sense of herself, and her feelings...)
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