Elann started her explanation as Noah lied there and stewed in his thoughts. What she thought was a childish notion was a survival mechanism in his mind, both as a Kelvic and as a bondmate. Knowing what she thought allowed him to navigate around evoking anymore of her ill thoughts and would keep her sated, hopefully. It made sense in his mind. As a Kelvic, it let him watch out for any other telltale signs of repeated misunderstanding and unintentional harm on her side. Seeing more made it hard to get to the point of forgiveness with her, a state he had yet to reach despite their good vibes that evening.

She tried to compare writing in her journal to his art, asking if it was a part of him or if it helped him remember events. She seemed to pause more, attempting to lighten what he read by saying there were also pages of goodness in the journal.

“I don’t know how to explain my drawing,” he admitted truthfully. It had been a long time since he had drawn anything, Elann being the first thing he had drawn since he last put the book down.

He tried to draw when he first arrived in Syliras but he couldn’t concentrate on anything long enough to get a full picture out. Elann had seen the partly done pieces in the more recent parts of the book, they were no more than sketches and outlines of vague and indistinguishable items. He remembered what started him drawing in the first place and what kept him drawing, they weren’t probably what Elann thought though.

He looked at the journal again, reaching out for it despite not wanting much to do with it at this point. He pushed it towards her across the floor. “Can you read me one of them?” he asked in reference to the apparent good parts of her journal.