Sunshine And Arrows

[Sjira]

(Posted: Sun Jul 12, 2015 7:06 pm)

The Glen was one of her favorite places to go. She had a yearning to be back there and had started planning a return to it the night before. Food and water, a blanket, a large towelling cloth and more were packed into the cloth slingsack she often carried with her.

Eyes the color of a raven's wing looked about to find the last few items. The set of pipes that she could not play very well. A wan look at them, convinced that every attempt at it would end in nothing but the bleeding of ears! The small woman laughed quietly at her own thinking.

Then reached for the quiver that held several arrows and the bow Peredhil had given to her three years before. She had not practiced enough with the pipes or the bow.

She rested the bow and arrows against the pack and crossed the outer room of those that she and Panther had kept there at the inn for years. Touch alighted against the handling of a top drawer of the dresser and drew it open. It was filled with letters received for one things or another. Some were very long, others were just notes on bits of paper.

One of the notes was smiled on to recall it coming from the very one that had given her the bow:

Dear S'jira,

I thought it was time that you have your own Elven bow. The runes say 'S'jira -- Strength and Courage'. I'm happy to give you a lesson, if you wish, but the first and most important rule to remember is: 'The pointy end of the arrow should be facing away from you!'

Your friend,

Peredhil

"It is known which way.. " Laughing gently as she read it probably for the fourth time since that day. A smile to self, she put the note away and closed the drawer. A little glance about the room was brief, but enough to have her moving about.

The bed was made with a certain care and neatness to it. The curtains were drawn to keep as much heat of the day's sun from the room. The table was wiped down and the two chairs nudged in against it.

When these few things were done, the small woman braided her hair into a thick plait. Along the side of her face some locks were a little shorter and hung in loose, thin waves against her cheeks. Then she shouldered the back and quiver, picking up the bow.

How she smiled to take a self piece of the day to enjoy in the beauty of the day. Bare feet hurried down the steps and out of the inn's main door, headed in the direction of the livery where she had left Trygg in the care of the stablehands there.