She felt a woman all of a sudden, after so many years of being a warrior. And only a warrior. She never thought of such a thing like a favourite flower, but, surprised by herself, Melowen realized she already knew the answer. It was already there, in her mind.
So many moons and suns has passed ever since I went to Echad Rond with my final training. My instructor and mentor Culir has been a true inspiration for me the last weeks. He has taught me so much that I never thought I could be able to learn at all. I learned to range areas in a constructive way both spiritual and physical. I have learned everything that is to know about maps, how to find directions, maps for several purposes. I also learned look up for traps and other traces from goblins and other foe's.
A small Simbelmynë flower growing along the banks of a small lake somewhere in the Westfold of Rohan, sketched by Ruthoiël's great-great-Grandson, Ýrion, before his death. It hangs in her bedroom.
OOC: Sketched out by me, then traced with graphite sticks and smudged to death!
((OOC: This story arc is designed to portray the different members of the Bar-en-Wilwarin and Bar-en-Linquëlossë in some of the events that I wrote in my Timeline. It will most likely be rather short stories since it will mostly be dialogue and things like that. Enjoy!))