[Elora]

Uien (formerly known as Vanwe) stretched her fingers as she set the carving down. It was a rough lump of wood no longer. Her thoughts had not allowed sleep, and she did not miss it in truth as she was filled with an energy. Brushing a some fragile shovings away with a gentle hand, she blew on the carving and studied it critically.

Slowly, piece by piece, she was improving. It had been an ambitious project, to uncover a star in a block of wood. It glowed with a foresty radiance, the grain alight and satiny. Some polish would not go astray either. Perhaps Aman had some to spare in the attic. Uien cleaned her belt knife and sheathed it. Smoke rose from her candle in a curling plume, the candle now burnt out.

Uien stood, stretching fluidly with a feline liquid grace. She had been sitting on that stool, carving all night. She walked to the open hay doors, to the very edge. Her bare toes wriggled over the edge of the floor as she looked out at the sky. It was grey now. Morning was coming. She tucked her hair behind her ears, trying to keep it from the playful fingers of an early morning breeze. It ruffled her hair relentlessly nonetheless.

The stars had started to fade, all but a determined few. Uien smiled up at her namesakes and turned back to the loft behind. An early start would get the work done faster, and Derufin had had a long night. She collected her wooden star and dropped it in her pouch as she walked back to the ladder. Uien did not decide what to do with it until she reached the lower stables.

Quietly, she crept into Derufin's empty lodgings and deposited the star next to the crane. She ran a gentle finger fondly over the graceful sweep of outstreched wings. It wanted to soar, she thought. With that, Uien left to begin the day's work. There was water to fetch, feed to set outk, hay to change and rake. The horses had to be set out to pasture, and that was only the beginnings.

As was her habit, Uien sang softly as she collected empty buckets that hung at the back of the stables and started to haul water to the day pastures. Horses, familiar with her morning singing, whickered at her as she passed.

"Soon, my friends, soon," she replied with light good humour. "I haven't even gotten the grain out yet." Her song floated out with her from the stables to the well, empty buckets swinging from both hands. A mist hung closely to the ground, thick and white. It would a hot day, she sensed, as she walked through it.