Kenelm gazed up at the hand as it moved to touch him, and he shifted to the right, setting his precious harp on the ground with a small noise. He sat down, fingertips picking slightly at the old floor. Hearing the quiet voice of the odd insect, he sighed, 'I do not intend on telling others ... unless you intend on plundering or destroying ... and do not say such things of my father ... he is busy in his own matters ...' Kenelm went silent for a while, setting a hand on the instrument.
He scooted slightly forward as the halfling's hand went away from him, then took out the pad of paper and charcoal, tilting his head slightly. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his hands on them.
'I ... I am Kenelm ...' he spoke, his voice jumping as if he were losing hold of speech. The Ghost looked towards the narrow window high above, and hearing no shrieking, appeared relieved. The moon was nearing its fullness, filling the almost hollow form of Kenelm with its light, making him seem to glow with a silver beauty. The stars were, however, clouded over.
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- Ringwraith #5,
Servant of the Eye
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