Annalaliath continued to listin to the stories as she tok out the battered book and This time she braught out ink. This ink was differnt from the plain black ink that was ued every where; this was colored inks. Green, blue, black, red, of course purpel, and black. This was the ink of artists and scribes. She was now stting at a tabke and felt comfortalbe setting up.
She started to draw a scene from her memory. This was the start of her realease. The portrate of a child started to take shape. And still she listened, bloting the paper no and again. Her pens scratcinh away as she sat there in silnce, listening.
Her blond hair did fall in the ususal manner as she bent over that papaer. it also was dipped ito wt ink now and agin, turingit black in these places, but still she worked and litend.
[ April 16, 2003: Message edited by: Annalaliath ]
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Bloody Stumps!!!
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