Written By Sunaia
Jan. 9, 2021, 12:22 a.m.(9/19/1014 AR)
"-- security and constancy, rather than love --"
Written By Sunaia
Jan. 8, 2021, 10:38 p.m.(9/19/1014 AR)
If I drink spirits -- stay with spirits. Don't, ever-ever -- start with whiskey and end with beer. It's a dangerous combination.
Because apparently all the alcohol in the Compact will never make me a decent poet --or on time.
Because apparently all the alcohol in the Compact will never make me a decent poet --or on time.
Written By Sunaia
Jan. 8, 2021, 3:46 p.m.(9/18/1014 AR)
No, Scholar, I am not intending to share the story that -- no, no I'm not --
Well, fine. That one thing. It was an interesting conversation. Thank you, Lady M. Reach out whenever it pleases and we will resume the theological discussion.
Well, fine. That one thing. It was an interesting conversation. Thank you, Lady M. Reach out whenever it pleases and we will resume the theological discussion.
Written By Sunaia
Jan. 6, 2021, 5:57 a.m.(9/14/1014 AR)
Restlessness? No, no -- not at moment Scholar, I'm just tired. Utterly.
I wanted to write -- if I dream -- I hope that I cannot remember them. Not the terrors. Not unless it's the feeling of pack -- of the whole, rather than the one. The beauty of that harmony, pleasing to the ear, peaceful for the soul. Euphony. The feeling of belonging -- safe, secure -- that intense happiness. Euphoria.
If I say my prayers, I can only hope that happens --
I wanted to write -- if I dream -- I hope that I cannot remember them. Not the terrors. Not unless it's the feeling of pack -- of the whole, rather than the one. The beauty of that harmony, pleasing to the ear, peaceful for the soul. Euphony. The feeling of belonging -- safe, secure -- that intense happiness. Euphoria.
If I say my prayers, I can only hope that happens --
Written By Sunaia
Jan. 2, 2021, 8:48 p.m.(9/7/1014 AR)
Scholar Einar, I'm just writing here to say that I'm going to avoid the Lyceum Ward for at least a week.
At least.
I know you're going to encourage me to write it down (praise Vellichor) but, honestly? I don't think I want to.
Not here.
It --
At least.
I know you're going to encourage me to write it down (praise Vellichor) but, honestly? I don't think I want to.
Not here.
It --
Written By Sunaia
Jan. 1, 2021, 6:32 p.m.(9/5/1014 AR)
So -- for now -- no.
I'll not be going hedge-knight or taking godsworn oaths yet. I took the time to carefully consider the options. Which left me, well, as terribly indecisive as per my normal. So many rambling scrawls in the pages of my Reflections, measuring and weighing out the pros and cons. This is what happens when I slow down. When I compose myself and my thoughts like I know what I'm doing. Like I'm not playing everything by ear -- (mostly impulse-driven.)
Is wanderlust such a curse that I can't even decide what I'm going to _do_? Seems like, for now, the answer is yes.
So, again, patience. Three more months. Wait and see.
Let's see what opportunities arise. What unknowns to be known. New faces.
(If it ever gets to be too much, remember, you can always run.)
I'll not be going hedge-knight or taking godsworn oaths yet. I took the time to carefully consider the options. Which left me, well, as terribly indecisive as per my normal. So many rambling scrawls in the pages of my Reflections, measuring and weighing out the pros and cons. This is what happens when I slow down. When I compose myself and my thoughts like I know what I'm doing. Like I'm not playing everything by ear -- (mostly impulse-driven.)
Is wanderlust such a curse that I can't even decide what I'm going to _do_? Seems like, for now, the answer is yes.
So, again, patience. Three more months. Wait and see.
Let's see what opportunities arise. What unknowns to be known. New faces.
(If it ever gets to be too much, remember, you can always run.)
Written By Sunaia
Dec. 29, 2020, 8:50 p.m.(8/27/1014 AR)
Suddenly, the next day seems a little brighter, even if I need to wait and see what happens next.
I should have left that statement well enough alone, shouldn't I, Scholar? It's positive and light-hearted and the most optimistic I've been in -- months? Months, I think. I should know myself to add to this, not leave well enough alone, and finish this entry with a dose more realism. So --
Tomorrow may not be better. But it's still tomorrow. A tomorrow in a world where we're not always given that chance. If that's not a bright spot -- don't know what is.
I should have left that statement well enough alone, shouldn't I, Scholar? It's positive and light-hearted and the most optimistic I've been in -- months? Months, I think. I should know myself to add to this, not leave well enough alone, and finish this entry with a dose more realism. So --
Tomorrow may not be better. But it's still tomorrow. A tomorrow in a world where we're not always given that chance. If that's not a bright spot -- don't know what is.
Written By Sunaia
Dec. 5, 2020, 9:39 p.m.(7/7/1014 AR)
I'll probably forget, Scholar, so I'll need to make a note of it.
Two less than a fortnight. A torrid heel.
Two less than a fortnight. A torrid heel.
Written By Sunaia
Dec. 2, 2020, 1:16 p.m.(6/28/1014 AR)
I leave - I return.
I leave again - I return again.
I realize that dark, richly packed dirt and leaf litter and grasses are kinder on bared feet than the pathways of the city. Walk around long enough without boots and the soles of the feet get hard and calloused like the paw pads of the hounds I run with. With and alongside. We run. We hunt. We eat when we're hungry and sleep when we're weary.
I know it's a danger to be in the woods these days, but, when I think about how the dangers lurk everywhere around us - I would rather risk the freedom of forests than the confines of the city.
I leave - I return.
Yes, I wouldn't trade this freedom for anything.
I leave again - I return again.
I realize that dark, richly packed dirt and leaf litter and grasses are kinder on bared feet than the pathways of the city. Walk around long enough without boots and the soles of the feet get hard and calloused like the paw pads of the hounds I run with. With and alongside. We run. We hunt. We eat when we're hungry and sleep when we're weary.
I know it's a danger to be in the woods these days, but, when I think about how the dangers lurk everywhere around us - I would rather risk the freedom of forests than the confines of the city.
I leave - I return.
Yes, I wouldn't trade this freedom for anything.
Written By Sunaia
Aug. 30, 2020, 1:02 p.m.(12/8/1013 AR)
I guess that I need to start somewhere.
So - it starts here.
It's only a fancy, it'll pass. It's a phase. It's a flight of nervous birds. A stomach full of butterflies. An unconsidered risk. Knowing myself it might. Knowing myself now it might not. If I were to do this properly, yes, I would dedicate a full year and a month. Knowing myself as my own greatest enemy and my own saboteur, I won't do that. I'll have to be more realistic. Recognize my limits.
I guess. Then, I start here.
Three months.
So - it starts here.
It's only a fancy, it'll pass. It's a phase. It's a flight of nervous birds. A stomach full of butterflies. An unconsidered risk. Knowing myself it might. Knowing myself now it might not. If I were to do this properly, yes, I would dedicate a full year and a month. Knowing myself as my own greatest enemy and my own saboteur, I won't do that. I'll have to be more realistic. Recognize my limits.
I guess. Then, I start here.
Three months.
Written By Sunaia
July 4, 2020, 7:23 p.m.(8/6/1013 AR)
I haven't seen blood in weeks, I thought I was sleeping just fine, and yet - yet - YET this morning - my temper was growing shorter.
I stood at the edge of the Gray Forest and screamed until the unspent energy left my body.
I stood at the edge of the Gray Forest and screamed until the unspent energy left my body.
Written By Sunaia
July 1, 2020, 8:11 a.m.(7/27/1013 AR)
-- I should not have dipped into the whiskey, I know this Scholar. Wait, wait, are you having trouble breathing, Scholar - -
You're laughing at me. Please, note, that Scholar Einar laughed at my plight. It might have made me laugh too. Believe that I'm going to leave that vague enough so that if someone in another age from now gets bored enough to pick this up, they'll wonder if I laughed. Or not. Who knows? I'll make you wonder indefinitely, future bored person.
This week, I have spent some of my idle time wondering what I would like to make of myself, who should I be?
(Mostly while volunteering to muck out stables.)
Because of choice, because of freedom, because of will - because I was daydreaming - this is a very short list of various options:
* Drop everything, invent a new name (Susan) for myself, and run off to join a Kismet Carnival.
* Learn to sing (badly) and act (not as badly) and join the Mummers.
* Make an attempt to settle down (not yet.) Find a good political alliance with a nice lady (or lord) - or possibly a nice prince (or princess) who is far enough from the line of inheritance so that we can travel everywhere without needing to worry about duty or responsibilities.
* Become an actual Liberator. Godsworn to Skald.
* Become an actual member of the King's Own. I think I fight well enough to keep up with the Hundred. I think.
* Go feral, become a literal hedge-knight.
You're laughing at me. Please, note, that Scholar Einar laughed at my plight. It might have made me laugh too. Believe that I'm going to leave that vague enough so that if someone in another age from now gets bored enough to pick this up, they'll wonder if I laughed. Or not. Who knows? I'll make you wonder indefinitely, future bored person.
This week, I have spent some of my idle time wondering what I would like to make of myself, who should I be?
(Mostly while volunteering to muck out stables.)
Because of choice, because of freedom, because of will - because I was daydreaming - this is a very short list of various options:
* Drop everything, invent a new name (Susan) for myself, and run off to join a Kismet Carnival.
* Learn to sing (badly) and act (not as badly) and join the Mummers.
* Make an attempt to settle down (not yet.) Find a good political alliance with a nice lady (or lord) - or possibly a nice prince (or princess) who is far enough from the line of inheritance so that we can travel everywhere without needing to worry about duty or responsibilities.
* Become an actual Liberator. Godsworn to Skald.
* Become an actual member of the King's Own. I think I fight well enough to keep up with the Hundred. I think.
* Go feral, become a literal hedge-knight.
Written By Sunaia
June 26, 2020, 9:46 p.m.(7/18/1013 AR)
So, I was very sure I was going to find the right horse today - and I have Scholar. Would you like to see him?
(No, not here. I am fully aware that a horse cannot invade the sanctity of the Archives. I'm not that impulsive --)
Scholar has just disagreed with me. He shook his head. Please, note that Scholar Einar has endured me long enough to make this judgement call. I can't say that I blame him, not really. So, at the market. There I am. I visited the usual purveyors of fine horses. They were, obviously, out of my purchase range and I moved on.
I saw a dun - a chestnut. I saw a beautiful bay. Gelding, with a little white snip at the end of his nose. The stable-hand helped me. Blanket - saddle - girth. While I was tightening the girth there was a bridle brought. I sent them back, once or twice and I was terribly insistent that I wanted a bit-less bridle. I wanted him to have his head. After the usual bartering and settling of the trade, I had him.
He's mostly calm, but fresh and overly eager to be out of the stables and in the open air. He didn't spook when a cart passed by. All good omens, I think, for a smooth ride. I simply walked him through the city center (with only a minor stop for a day's worth of provisions for horse and rider) and we were off and into the forest. It takes so very little to spur him on. Which is, both a good thing - and bad. Because I needed a visit to the Mercies and a soak at the Grotto after I took a tumble.
We trotted out into the woods, took a path, and -- we flew. Not literally.
But a gallop through a wild wood is the closest that I think I will ever be to that weightless feeling.
Spending a full day out in such a way won''t cure my restless heart.
At least for a few hours, I could forget about it.
(No, not here. I am fully aware that a horse cannot invade the sanctity of the Archives. I'm not that impulsive --)
Scholar has just disagreed with me. He shook his head. Please, note that Scholar Einar has endured me long enough to make this judgement call. I can't say that I blame him, not really. So, at the market. There I am. I visited the usual purveyors of fine horses. They were, obviously, out of my purchase range and I moved on.
I saw a dun - a chestnut. I saw a beautiful bay. Gelding, with a little white snip at the end of his nose. The stable-hand helped me. Blanket - saddle - girth. While I was tightening the girth there was a bridle brought. I sent them back, once or twice and I was terribly insistent that I wanted a bit-less bridle. I wanted him to have his head. After the usual bartering and settling of the trade, I had him.
He's mostly calm, but fresh and overly eager to be out of the stables and in the open air. He didn't spook when a cart passed by. All good omens, I think, for a smooth ride. I simply walked him through the city center (with only a minor stop for a day's worth of provisions for horse and rider) and we were off and into the forest. It takes so very little to spur him on. Which is, both a good thing - and bad. Because I needed a visit to the Mercies and a soak at the Grotto after I took a tumble.
We trotted out into the woods, took a path, and -- we flew. Not literally.
But a gallop through a wild wood is the closest that I think I will ever be to that weightless feeling.
Spending a full day out in such a way won''t cure my restless heart.
At least for a few hours, I could forget about it.
Written By Sunaia
June 25, 2020, 7:52 p.m.(7/16/1013 AR)
(Scholar, may I ask a question? Please, please don't - write - oh you are already - never the mind.)
I ask: How is one supposed to respond to any comment in these Whites that I dislike -- like, vehemently dislike? May I call their face stupid - or is that too immature for a noble of fine breeding?
It is --
(Scholar has said yes, it is not the proper way to respond to an entry you disagree with.)
Foo.
I ask: How is one supposed to respond to any comment in these Whites that I dislike -- like, vehemently dislike? May I call their face stupid - or is that too immature for a noble of fine breeding?
It is --
(Scholar has said yes, it is not the proper way to respond to an entry you disagree with.)
Foo.
Written By Sunaia
June 24, 2020, 10:25 p.m.(7/14/1013 AR)
(It's that time again, Scholar, in which I natter on and you seem to listen. Uncannily well, I might add - which makes me wish to ask if you're truly interested in -- he nodded. I was planning to continue on no matter what the answer was. Note that Scholar Einar is indeed every inch the devotee to Vellichor.)
So, this entry is a catch-all for my current thoughts, set into one place that I can review later.
A partial list of the things I would like to do:
* I would like to secure for myself a new riding companion. A horse that can keep up on the trail. One that's unbothered and trained to the presence of dogs -- of other people -- of danger. A horse that's steady and not easily spooked. Or, barring that, a green horse that I can train myself. It would be a great act of patience. A good lesson.
* I would like to get a swordbelt. Something with lots of pouches and pockets. Lots.
* A cloak with a deep hood. A pair of leather gloves.
* I would really like to go on an adventure. Potential of unknown mysteries and dangers? Hopefully high. Yes, please. That adds to the fun of exploration.
* I would like to learn to be as quiet as a cat's shadow. I want to be able to slip and stalk and find that there is a kind of peace in the dappled shade of the forest. That it's all right to be afraid of the dark while you use it to your advantage. To shift from being loud and boisterous to being -- well, nuanced. Quiet doesn't lessen the focus, or of the force of the emotions that rule me, but I hope I can temper it.
I hope for a lot more these days.
(Maybe this is more of wish-list, Scholar.)
So, this entry is a catch-all for my current thoughts, set into one place that I can review later.
A partial list of the things I would like to do:
* I would like to secure for myself a new riding companion. A horse that can keep up on the trail. One that's unbothered and trained to the presence of dogs -- of other people -- of danger. A horse that's steady and not easily spooked. Or, barring that, a green horse that I can train myself. It would be a great act of patience. A good lesson.
* I would like to get a swordbelt. Something with lots of pouches and pockets. Lots.
* A cloak with a deep hood. A pair of leather gloves.
* I would really like to go on an adventure. Potential of unknown mysteries and dangers? Hopefully high. Yes, please. That adds to the fun of exploration.
* I would like to learn to be as quiet as a cat's shadow. I want to be able to slip and stalk and find that there is a kind of peace in the dappled shade of the forest. That it's all right to be afraid of the dark while you use it to your advantage. To shift from being loud and boisterous to being -- well, nuanced. Quiet doesn't lessen the focus, or of the force of the emotions that rule me, but I hope I can temper it.
I hope for a lot more these days.
(Maybe this is more of wish-list, Scholar.)
Written By Sunaia
June 19, 2020, 11:14 a.m.(7/4/1013 AR)
(Scholar, would you like to hear something interesting? Why, of course you do - unless you don't - and if so, please note that you'll humor me a bit.)
Eyes in the front, the animal hunts. Eyes on the side, the animal hides.
Eyes that face forward on a skull suggest a predator. Forward, which allows an animal to see and figure out distance. Predators need this to track and pursue prey. Cats, owls, wolves, and humans all have forward-facing eyes which means that they need this adaptation when they are hunting and seeking prey. All great examples of predators.
Eyes that are on the sides of an animal's head lean toward being a prey animal. Eyes that allow for a greater field of side vision. The prey animal can see a predator's approach from the sides and the back, so their peripheral sight is keen. This is especially important for when the prey animal is feeding or grazing. Like hare and deer.
I wonder if it makes it unfair for the prey animals when the danger is facing them directly. Hopefully not. Because the roasted squirrel was delicious.
Eyes in the front, the animal hunts. Eyes on the side, the animal hides.
Eyes that face forward on a skull suggest a predator. Forward, which allows an animal to see and figure out distance. Predators need this to track and pursue prey. Cats, owls, wolves, and humans all have forward-facing eyes which means that they need this adaptation when they are hunting and seeking prey. All great examples of predators.
Eyes that are on the sides of an animal's head lean toward being a prey animal. Eyes that allow for a greater field of side vision. The prey animal can see a predator's approach from the sides and the back, so their peripheral sight is keen. This is especially important for when the prey animal is feeding or grazing. Like hare and deer.
I wonder if it makes it unfair for the prey animals when the danger is facing them directly. Hopefully not. Because the roasted squirrel was delicious.
Written By Sunaia
June 17, 2020, 10:38 p.m.(6/28/1013 AR)
This morning I woke up without even a moderate headache, thanks to all the pacing - sorry, exercising - that I was doing as I ran laps around the Grayson Ward today. It cleared my head. I was even able to get a hour or two of actual rest before the sun rose. Settled in and waking up, the dogs waited for me to show signs of life before they jumped in and all over me, all with entirely too much energy. So - we needed to go out again. Before the miserable heat had a chance to spoil was otherwise going to be a brilliant day.
(No, Scholar, it wasn't that hot -- I just prefer certain times of day over others. Don't fault me for that.)
I miss East terribly today, and I tried very hard to keep myself in the present tense and I made plans for myself. I'm going to set my own pace now and pick my own direction.
(I need a horse, I think, in order to go on longer rides in the woods when the weather's dry and the conditions are right. I miss the smell of sweet straw and the mustiness of horse and stable and even manure. Yes, it's a very specific scent memory. It's comforting. And, the proper place to breathe in the scent of horse to really understand what I mean - it's behind the ears. Where their coat's soft and napped like velvet. Don't believe me yet, Scholar? We'll go to the stables after this and I'll show you.)
Lastly, I wrote a lot of letters. A lot. I told Kaia that it felt like my hand was going to fall off. It didn't, of course. Letters are safe. Safer, for now, until I summon up the grit to go to the Shrine today and apologize to the Archlector. I'll do it. Yes, I will do that today.
(No, Scholar, it wasn't that hot -- I just prefer certain times of day over others. Don't fault me for that.)
I miss East terribly today, and I tried very hard to keep myself in the present tense and I made plans for myself. I'm going to set my own pace now and pick my own direction.
(I need a horse, I think, in order to go on longer rides in the woods when the weather's dry and the conditions are right. I miss the smell of sweet straw and the mustiness of horse and stable and even manure. Yes, it's a very specific scent memory. It's comforting. And, the proper place to breathe in the scent of horse to really understand what I mean - it's behind the ears. Where their coat's soft and napped like velvet. Don't believe me yet, Scholar? We'll go to the stables after this and I'll show you.)
Lastly, I wrote a lot of letters. A lot. I told Kaia that it felt like my hand was going to fall off. It didn't, of course. Letters are safe. Safer, for now, until I summon up the grit to go to the Shrine today and apologize to the Archlector. I'll do it. Yes, I will do that today.
Written By Sunaia
June 16, 2020, 7:07 p.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
The first thing I did was run.
I ran and ran and ran. This isn't as romantic nor as dramatic as it sounds. I ran until exhaustion overtook me and at least I was able to sleep. I don't remember where - but the spring evening was mild and that pile of dogs was comfortable to snuggle between.
Sweet, the warm smell of their fur and their terrible hare-baited breath. It was a comfort. Gods, having a couple of uninterrupted hours didn't salvage the aftermath of that frantic pace come morning. I was, in truth, a mess. Hair disordered, cheeks rough red and tear-streaked. Moonlight flatters me. But, sunlight? Never. It reveals. It lays bare everything beneath its merciless shine. Unforgiving. Bright. Even that open swathe of robin's egg blue sky seemed strangely accusatory. It wasn't. It was just me. My thoughts.
It took me far too long to reconcile my situation. I had run out of tears, run out of the energy to run further, run out of reasons not to face myself - to face my missteps. Countless missteps.
(It almost doesn't seem like such a big deal, does it Scholar? When I phrase it that way - misstep.)
But they were mistakes. I held myself firm, made myself as impassive as carved marble, and I forced myself to be accountable for my mistakes. For how long? I don't remember. There was enough time to be uncomfortable in my own company. I've been used to that. Familiar with keeping to myself in the forests between the capital city and Ashford lands. Surviving, meditating. There were days that I never spoke a word. Neither to myself nor the dogs. Keeping my eyes vaguely focused on some tree - or some large rock that was slightly off-center of the lake that I kept my camp near. I meditated.
Honestly, there are so many days of inconsolable drooping in the shadows of a willow that one can take before it's too much. There's still so much to do, learn, explore, mend, and if I should stumble - I know I'm agile enough to catch my footing and begin again. Emotions are weapons, aren't they? In a fit of uncontrollable temper one can wield emotions like a mace, and if that someone (me - I mean me) wields my emotions as carelessly as I did it's like handing a mace to an untrained soldier. They can cause damage.
They can, irrevocably, fuck things up.
(I really, really hope that I didn't fuck it all up.)
And I am my father's daughter - my mother's daughter. An Ashford. With the training and raising that they did of me, their youngest, in the image that they allowed _me_ to shape and form. Why has it taken me so long to acknowledge that, Scholar? (Rhetorical question, mostly. Mostly.) My choices are my own. My will is my own. My reactions to all that I am exposed to are my own. Why would I spoil that gift of choice, of freedom - in my own self-misery? In pettiness? In useless anger? These are not things I should be spending this time - my life - on.
And the sky, again, turned from black - to gray - to sleepy pastel dawn. I broke down my camp. I called the dogs to heel at my side.
I walked back home.
I ran and ran and ran. This isn't as romantic nor as dramatic as it sounds. I ran until exhaustion overtook me and at least I was able to sleep. I don't remember where - but the spring evening was mild and that pile of dogs was comfortable to snuggle between.
Sweet, the warm smell of their fur and their terrible hare-baited breath. It was a comfort. Gods, having a couple of uninterrupted hours didn't salvage the aftermath of that frantic pace come morning. I was, in truth, a mess. Hair disordered, cheeks rough red and tear-streaked. Moonlight flatters me. But, sunlight? Never. It reveals. It lays bare everything beneath its merciless shine. Unforgiving. Bright. Even that open swathe of robin's egg blue sky seemed strangely accusatory. It wasn't. It was just me. My thoughts.
It took me far too long to reconcile my situation. I had run out of tears, run out of the energy to run further, run out of reasons not to face myself - to face my missteps. Countless missteps.
(It almost doesn't seem like such a big deal, does it Scholar? When I phrase it that way - misstep.)
But they were mistakes. I held myself firm, made myself as impassive as carved marble, and I forced myself to be accountable for my mistakes. For how long? I don't remember. There was enough time to be uncomfortable in my own company. I've been used to that. Familiar with keeping to myself in the forests between the capital city and Ashford lands. Surviving, meditating. There were days that I never spoke a word. Neither to myself nor the dogs. Keeping my eyes vaguely focused on some tree - or some large rock that was slightly off-center of the lake that I kept my camp near. I meditated.
Honestly, there are so many days of inconsolable drooping in the shadows of a willow that one can take before it's too much. There's still so much to do, learn, explore, mend, and if I should stumble - I know I'm agile enough to catch my footing and begin again. Emotions are weapons, aren't they? In a fit of uncontrollable temper one can wield emotions like a mace, and if that someone (me - I mean me) wields my emotions as carelessly as I did it's like handing a mace to an untrained soldier. They can cause damage.
They can, irrevocably, fuck things up.
(I really, really hope that I didn't fuck it all up.)
And I am my father's daughter - my mother's daughter. An Ashford. With the training and raising that they did of me, their youngest, in the image that they allowed _me_ to shape and form. Why has it taken me so long to acknowledge that, Scholar? (Rhetorical question, mostly. Mostly.) My choices are my own. My will is my own. My reactions to all that I am exposed to are my own. Why would I spoil that gift of choice, of freedom - in my own self-misery? In pettiness? In useless anger? These are not things I should be spending this time - my life - on.
And the sky, again, turned from black - to gray - to sleepy pastel dawn. I broke down my camp. I called the dogs to heel at my side.
I walked back home.
Written By Sunaia
June 4, 2020, 4:10 p.m.(6/2/1013 AR)
I am sorry that my brother killed your father, High Lord Darren. I am sorry my brother betrayed the Compact. And I realize the impotence of my apologies - since I was not here to try to stop him and am not responsible for his behavior.
I, also, had no part in either and do not condone his behavior.
I have merely mentioned that I knew differently of him at one time.
I'm beginning to regret that I dared express my heart so openly.
I, also, had no part in either and do not condone his behavior.
I have merely mentioned that I knew differently of him at one time.
I'm beginning to regret that I dared express my heart so openly.
Written By Sunaia
June 3, 2020, 1:03 p.m.(5/28/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Sorrel
Princess Sorrel,
Somewhere between you and I there has clearly been a mix-up in conversation. I never said you intended to kill me - I have merely advised people that I am fearful that you might, after you yelled at me and, in the words of Archlector Hamish "manhandled some of [his] furniture" in his office. As I have written privately to you and have told others: I have no further interest in having anything to do with you.
My words have clearly been misinterpreted and I am sorry for the anguish and stain to your reputation they caused you; and I publicly state that I will henceforth not mention your name in any context whatsoever.
I ask that you do the same of me.
Somewhere between you and I there has clearly been a mix-up in conversation. I never said you intended to kill me - I have merely advised people that I am fearful that you might, after you yelled at me and, in the words of Archlector Hamish "manhandled some of [his] furniture" in his office. As I have written privately to you and have told others: I have no further interest in having anything to do with you.
My words have clearly been misinterpreted and I am sorry for the anguish and stain to your reputation they caused you; and I publicly state that I will henceforth not mention your name in any context whatsoever.
I ask that you do the same of me.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.