[ooc: backdated to sometime Wednesday]
I could have handled this well enough without the bloody cursed water, and the splattering amphibians, and the masses of panicing people. But now there are fleas. Gods thriced-damned through all the hells, fucking...(furious scribbling over several words, which may or may not reference sheep, pikes, and Portland, Oregon). [narration appologizes on Eilir's behalf to anyone from modern-day Portland. Or Oregon. Or whom happen to be sheep.]
The rest of her entry is entirely Irish, with odd bits of Elvish thrown in for good measure. It would be best not to ask, at least until this week it over.
The rest of her entry is entirely Irish, with odd bits of Elvish thrown in for good measure. It would be best not to ask, at least until this week it over.