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(Note to any of my readers: I'm very very VERY sorry for the long wait! I would ramble about how busy I am, but that would take up the time in which you could be reading what I have taken far too long in writing. It is not long, but I hope it'll be a sufficient peace-offering to make up for the long wait. =P)

         Silently, they turned and shuffled out of Rindor’s sitting room, neither venturing or wanting to look at the other.

~~~~~

**Hey everyone!  I feel kinda weird posting some fantasy after so many wonderful, dramatic, deep pieces that have been posted on apricotpie lately, but I'd really like to know what you guys think of this...it doesn't really make sense right now, but I think it will after I post the first chapter.  Btw, the book is NOT about the animal called a seahawk.  Or a tree. :D  These are just symbols.  :)  Enjoy.**

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                                                                     ELETA

"Wouldst thou but listen to me, lord, I believe thou shalt be convinced in this matter."  These words were addressed by a dignified, silver-haired elf to an equally dignified elf-lord, with hair of midnight and eyes of grey.  The elf-lord frowned slightly and stopped his troubled pacing.

"Speak then, Deyn," he ordered the other.  Deyn, who was obviously a counselor, spoke earnestly.

A Prologue that Hearkens Back to a Once-Heard Name

The twinkling night was cast in the glow of a soft beaming moon. The resting trees were shaded by a dark gloom. A hill stood under the sky which was spread with silver specks in a sea of dark blue. On a dirt path a fire light flickered. The path was carved upon the slope of the grass-covered hill. The fire beamed upon the path, lighting it brightly. Pattering feet scurried up the slope. Children ran; their laughter was constant. An elf sat behind the flames, a slight smile curved upon his shadowed lips.

A giant
3-21-07

Zeth’s eyes lit up with that mischievous gleam that could only mean he had stumbled across something which was probably not meant for him to know. Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered, “He gave Cyla a bouquet of flowers. And he offered to walk her to the market tomorrow.”
Spencer wiped his dirt-covered hands on his work trousers. “You spied on them, didn’t you?”
Zeth let out an exasperated breath and rolled his eyes. “How else is one supposed to know what goes on, eh?” A grin split his narrow face. “You have to admit you’re amused to hear it!”