Tindollion

Lusseriel was sitting between two tents in the small camp of the rohirrim. She looked weary, as she was trying to just stay sitting as the rohirrim healer applied a suture and bandage to a small but annoying and bleeding wound on her side. She looked at her ankle that was slowly turning a not so fetching shade of purple and sighed.

Lusseriel was sitting on the branch of a tall tree, her bag tied to another branch near her. Her notebook was on her laps, and she felt lucky it was a clear night that day.

“Today was… It was.

Lusseriel was sitting on the ground near Radanir, in the grove of trees. She was looking thoughtful as she used the bit of time she had on her hands to open her journal.

"Today with met with Candaith in that same grove I'm in now, in front of Lhanuch.

It was night time and Lusseriel was sitting at the light of a campfire, her notebook in her laps, and her backpack nearby.

“I picked up my journal again at the end of a long adventure.

Lusseriel was sitting with her back against a tree-trunk, her bare feet in the water of the river, at the light of a fire nearby and of the dim light of the sun setting in the horizon. She let her eyes trail over the river for a moment before she turned back to her journal on her laps.

"It's been a few days since I last wrote anything in there. Since then, many things happened.

Lusseriel was sitting near a fire, her journal in hands and her sword, newly cleaned next to her, the content of her bag being mostly a mess on the ground around her. Harp strings there, bee's wax here, sword and shield cleaning supply there, a random piece of wood (what was it even and what was it doing in her bag to start with?) there.

Lusseriel was sitting on top of the wall of Ost Galadh.

She was so quiet in a corner, and so out of the way, that she wasn't sure if the two other elves up there noticed her yet. Tiredly, she reached into her backpack and pulled out her notebook, and writing supply.

Lusseriel was sitting next to a fire, leaning against a conveniently placed tree when she decided to pull her journal out of her backpack.

“The company and I crossed the river from Lothlorien to Mirkwood today. Not that I regret it already but...

There's a lot to write about here, but I'll try to stay brief and relate the most important points of our journey.

Lusseriel was sitting barefoot and cross-legged under the lights in Cerin Amroth, thinking, her journal in her laps, her bag next to her, and her eyes on the stars above.

Chewing on a piece of flavourful wood, she finally shook herself and turned her eyes to her notebook and scribbled the date in a corner of the page.

Lusseriel was speaking with dwarves in the camp just next to the cave they had taken refuge in, before she went back within the cave, her bag on her shoulder. She let her bag fall to the floor next to a barrel and near Threnduil's cot.

The man didn't seem ready to awaken anytime soon. Good.