Lylesia walked into their room just as Theora was spinning her quill for the hundredth or so time in her hand. Her friend halted her steps to her bed to come and frown at the empty piece of parchment laid on the desk.
"You still haven't written anything?" she asked as she kept drying her long braids with her towel.
"...I'm thinking about it," Theora grumbled.
"You've been thinking about it for almost a week now, Theo!" Lylesia chuckled. "The poor man will think you're tied to an infirmary bed or something again. Why won't you put him out of his misery already? We have to leave tomorrow morning, Theora. Your bird has to leave today."
"He keeps asking about my injury and when we can meet," Theora admitted. "And I keep dodging the question, which I apparently can't do a good job of in wri
