A Message

Undómion let his fingers drift over a  parchment with thick lines of ink, enough so it could be felt. 'Reading' the message, it made him smile faintly.

The fledglings are beginning to attempt flight, it is a pleasure to know they will leave the nest! None have been injured so far, though I am at their aid should such event come to pass. The Mellyrn leaves will turn to gold eventually; quite soon, unless they change early this year.

I am glad that your journey to Imladris was safe...paths are becoming dangerous these days, as you keep saying. I expect to join you by the next phase of Ithil, perhaps sooner...I miss you, Iorphen.

​May this beloved bird bear this message swiftly.

Díllothwen

"And she did..." ​Undómion sighed slightly.

Veryathoron stood on the table, looking at his master expectantly while the elf thought.

Roads are becoming dangerous...​Undómion felt lucky that the small party he was a part of did not face any danger, but what of his wife? Will she be as lucky? ​Undómion hoped so. He had settled down in Imladris...spoken to a few of its inhabitants, even met some of those from the Golden Wood. The Valley could be considered home again, albeit temporary. The future is uncertain, the Noldo's time; waning.

"I will see to you getting a treat, Veryathoron..." ​Undómion made certain clicks with his tongue and light chirps, and soon the avian creature moved to gather parchment and pen for his master to send to Lórien...