The dark-haired Avari reclined on a small, red couch, inside Tham Send. He had a cool glass of wine in his left hand, his smallest finger sticking outwards whilst the rest of his fingers curl around the glass. In his right hand, resting on top of his fingers, is a book. The writing of it curls in the lettering of Quenya. He would take a sip from the glass of wine, placing it down on a small table in reach, using his free hand to turn the page of the book, then picking up the glass of wine again to take a sip, his eyes moving down the page as he reads the words.
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