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i’m fuckin spobbing

Quill-Weave pulled up a seat to the small table, pulling out an inkwell and a quill from her satchel. She dipped the tip of the quill in the inkwell, and began writing.

12th of Evening Star, Fredas

Quill-Weave

My travels to Skyrim today have landed me in a small village called Riverwood, north of Helgen. I certainly have not expected to get so far in two weeks, travelling here from Anvil. I have traveled by horse, of course..

Quill-Weave stopped to snicker at her rhyme and dips the tip of the quill back into the inkwell. She continued to write.

..but that is only a slight advantage. Surely, travelling by foot would take about three weeks-- assuming one is making sprints.

But, with all of that said and done, my horse has been tied up outside of the..

She took a moment to recall the name.

..Sleeping Giant Inn. I have met many friendly faces tonight, and many strange things along my travels. Yet I have not failed to recall them, I shall write more about them on a different parchment. It is fairly late at the moment, and I am tired to no ends. The Inn begins to grow quiet, so I must as well.

Quill-Weave yawned, setting the quill into the inkwell. She got up from her seat, removing her clothing, and crawling into the Inn's bed.

From there, she drifted off to sleep, and hoped she could dream up more topics for a new novel.

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