Thlim Telparin

Gibberish; that was all it was. Braigion did not care what they said, and immediately walked up the stairs in the room where the two guards had brought him. It all started so well...and apparently it was true: he belonged no where; no one seemed to want him here anyway.

He never asked to be here.

That tall one...he was intrigued, and then took on that prideful look, and even called Braigion a 'deformed creature'. He held back...though the dark head held Gileryn in a way the Avar did not like at all. Already being peeved didn't help...

The day was full to say the least: wandering in an extremely hot hall, observing some of the people that were in there. I even saw a couple of ‘followers’. There are mortals even here? Strange…well, it did not surprise me too much. Not all of those strange people followed my kind around like wolves; some remained for a bit, and then vanished. They were their own people; they were not pets. I guess that seems to have changed, many ages later…

Braigion paid little heed to the tall elf riding ahead of him; the Avar merely sulked in frustration and sadness as the crazy horse he was forced to ride followed behind. It was a little better than being on foot, where every step would be extremely painful as a result from his foot nearly being chopped off by a bear trap. It started in the middle of the night, and Braigion was off hunting by the cover of darkness. The higher ones’ camp was a fair ways to the west, so he would not be seen and hopefully undisturbed by what seemed to be hunters…

Well, Diary, now I can say I have been on a boar hunt. I dared not leave the fates of my friends to chance -- and indeed, one of the Hammers took a blow to the face. I ordered that he stay awake for the next six hours, that I might watch for signs of concussion. I write this before that time has elapsed, but it is my hope that the poor lad will not suffer too much for his eagerness to please the Sergeant.