[Elora]

Vanwe stood still in the moonlight as Falowik gave her that small ease to sooth the earlier sting of his withdrawal. The moonlight shone on her face as her perplexed expression relaxed into a pleased one.

"Thank you, Sir Falowik," she softly said. Falowik fell silent again, wrapped in his private reverie that she had intruded upon far too many times that night. OF course he had pushed her away. He could have been far rougher. The small fragment of braided leather that she had left on a table in the inn was testament to that.

"May the Watcher grant you rest this night," she said softer still, glancing up to the star she had named. It shimmered, bright and remote. With that, Vanwe turned and walked back to the stables, hair fluttering behind her as she retreated. It was getting late and she had already offended enough for one day.

Vanwe made her way through the darkness of the stables, finding the ladder that led to her loft. She scaled it, mind full with many things, and went straight to the candle that sat dark on the chest of drawers. She was too restless to sleep. Candle lit, Vanwe pushed open the hay doors to let in the night and the stars.

She stood there, looking out over the inn and trees and then turned back to the candle. She carried it to a stool that sat by the wall and set it down nearby. Vanwe folded neatly to sit upon that stool, skirts pooling around her and she retrieved a small block of wood. It had but the barest of shapings on it.

She pulled out the simple, serviceable belt knife and glanced once more at the stars. The Watcher was still there, brilliant amid the other gems of light. She let it fill her eyes and her mind, then she took her knife and started to work on the wood. By flickering candlelight, the rough shaping took on more detail. The colour of the wood grain was revealed, layer by layer. With some polish, it would shine with it's own earthly light when she was finished.

As she carved and shaped, Vanwe's mind ranged wide as she pondered scamps, vagabonds and soap. Perhaps, if he was still there in the morning, she would apologise for her overboldness. It had to be the unwatered wine on an empty stomach, she reasoned. She paid no heed to the faint glow in her cheeks as her thoughts turned as they would.

[ August 20, 2003: Message edited by: Elora ]