The sudden attack had interrupted Hathalas and Ani Dao’s conversation. When the elf fell, Ani Dao was first to his side. She had placed her slender fingers on the side of his neck, discovering his solemn fate. They had left camp that night, and made their way quickly to the eastern plains.
Now, few were sleeping. Most stared idly into the fire, or talked very quietly amongst themselves. Ani Dao wanted to speak with Hathalas again but he was engaged in a hushed conversation with the remnants of his elven scouts. Instead, she spread out her bedroll and lay for a while looking at the stars, refusing sleep.
The unusually clear night gave her complete viewing rites to the entire galaxy and spectacle was breathtaking. Weaving her slender hands under her head she whistled into the night, an old tune such that a sailor might sing should he be on a boat under such a sky. She was still whistling when Hathalas pulled away from his discussion to join her.
[ March 30, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]
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"They call this war a cloud over the land. But they made the weather and then they stand in the rain and say, 'Sh*t, it's raining!'" -- Ruby, Cold Mountain
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