I am not entirely sure whether Parnard drives me to amusement or madness.
He sits here even now, stitching away, as is his wont. I have tried a number of times to make out the depiction of the threads but to no avail. They seem to be a cluster of colours to my eyes. Doubtless he sees things differently.
I did not know Parnard for long before we set out from Imladris. I would say I did not know him at all, yet we had talked when the need arose. I likely would have avoided him completely if he had not been Rainith’s servant for a time for he is an odd fellow. Prone to great fits of dramatic emotion, and I am not sure which world he walks in sometimes, but I do not think it is the one I share.
He regales us with strange stories of snakes and turnips and I am never sure if these are jests or if he truly believes them himself, yet often these tales will make me laugh, and that is good on a journey such as this. I may have even seen Estarfin smile once, though now I am not sure.
After a time, Parnard broke from Rainith’s service, and since then I feel there has been a bite in his words to her. Another reason for me to laugh, for he has not subtlety. It troubles her not, but wearies her greatly.
As I wrote previously, I am not yet convinced that Parnard has a purpose here amongst us, for as I understand it, he is no warrior. The reason I am given by Danel is that he is from Mirkwood, and will be able to help us when we have reached that realm, yet by his own admission it has been a long time since he was last there. I have feared from the time that I found out he was to join us that he would be a burden on the road. So far he has not proved to be so, though he is sometimes an irritation for he is terrified of everything. The slightest hint of danger, which is often not far in these days, and he panics.
He is not fond of the Noldor, for he thinks unkindly of my people. I do not care for why. I know however, he bears some loves for Danel or he would not be here with us. I do not know what his opinion is of me and neither shall I seek to find it for it troubles me not.
His feelings for Estarfin have been perfectly clear for a long time. He fears him and likes him not even a little. He finds Estarfin, I think, uncompassionate, scruffy and prone to violence. All of which is true, yet he will not see him for who he really is: A product of an unhappy life.
I have explained Estarfin to Parnard on more than one occasion but his intolerance for him is too great and it angers me.
He is sat next to me at this moment, lost in his needlecraft. It seems to consume him whenever he starts it, oblivious to everything else around him.
He is harmless enough and perhaps he has a good heart, if not a comely nose...
For one reason at least he gains respect with me. He always seems to have a full wine-skin, which I will gladly help him to empty. If nothing else he shall be of use as a vintner on our journey!
Rainith still paces about, her curiosity as a seeker of lore taking over, and Estarfin now rests. If he ever does truly rest. Danel, she sits talking to one of the company of Echad Eregion whose name escapes me.
I feel as if I have been writing now for a long while and that I will need a brief halt before I tackle her entry.
I am thirsty and I am sure Parnard will have some wine tucked away close by, and if not, I am almost sure that if I sit here trying to work out whatever it is he is stitching, it shall have the same effect as though I had drunk enough to the point of sickness.
