07-30-2012, 12:14 PM
Personal post for Lilli's diary. I'll update it when something important enough happens!
A leather bound tome. Dried leaves from both Nothern Kalimdor and Zangarmarsh are scattered throughout the pages. The ink is a deep, almost black, green. The script is flowing and plantlike in form.
Zangarmarsh. Sporeggar.
I feel the need to dust off this aged tome to recount recent events. The Draenei continue to instil emotions that I thought long faded. Wonder, grandeur, sadness.Too long have I steeled myself beyond true feeling, and my senses have been dulled because of it. I sought to prevent emotional pain, yet only prevented emotional happiness.
His name is 'Telah'. He speaks of himself in humility, but a thousand words are spoken in the short moments of silence between us. He dubs himself Anchorite, and I have learned much of this group in our time together. The passion in which he speaks of his work causes my own to pale in comparison. While I am primarily awestruck, curious and respectful, inadequacy plagues my thoughts when I speak with him.
We have told many tales. He is curious of my feelings in this new world, and seeks to learn more of Azeroth. I too am curious of his own experiences, but I do not dare to ask him of his life before Draenor. I have heard tales of space travel but I suspect they are spun with the gleaming thread of deceit.
He tells me of his lost love, and that he gifted her a rare flower to declare his love. I find myself wanting to seek out this blossom and, with the Dream's blessing, grow it once again for him. Yet, I am tainted with anxiety. A strange feeling. One I last felt when first meeting Meladir... strange.
His name is 'Telah'. He speaks of himself in humility, but a thousand words are spoken in the short moments of silence between us. He dubs himself Anchorite, and I have learned much of this group in our time together. The passion in which he speaks of his work causes my own to pale in comparison. While I am primarily awestruck, curious and respectful, inadequacy plagues my thoughts when I speak with him.
We have told many tales. He is curious of my feelings in this new world, and seeks to learn more of Azeroth. I too am curious of his own experiences, but I do not dare to ask him of his life before Draenor. I have heard tales of space travel but I suspect they are spun with the gleaming thread of deceit.
He tells me of his lost love, and that he gifted her a rare flower to declare his love. I find myself wanting to seek out this blossom and, with the Dream's blessing, grow it once again for him. Yet, I am tainted with anxiety. A strange feeling. One I last felt when first meeting Meladir... strange.