Ridahne watched Darin quietly and listened to more than just her words. Ridahne had a decent eye for body language, and the quiet things left unspoken that filled in the silent gaps between conversation. Ajoran was good this too, which meant they didn't always have to say what they wanted to express, and she felt like he understood her silence. Ridahne did not know Darin nearly as well as Ajoran--they'd known each other for decades--but she felt like she knew something of Darin's silence, too. The quill might have been part of it, but Ridahne guessed it was barely about that. There was more to that feeling, she knew. 

Ridahne snorted, and the sound might have seemed derisive to someone who didn't know her dry sense of humor. "Outclass you, do I? At swordplay, yes. But I do hope you realize that if you gave me a patch of land and some seeds, and asked me to make food grow out of them, I'd probably drown them in too much water and then try shouting at them until they sprouted. My hands were not meant to till soil. And anyway, calligraphy is sort of...inherent to Azurei culture, and we have far more time to learn it and perfect it than humans do. If you've ever wondered why elves seem generally very good at whatever it is that they do, it's not because we're superior. It's just that we have a long, long time to refine the art. You've got me beat in skills and accomplishments when I was your age. The only thing I was good at when I was your age was hunting and getting into fights. At least you know a trade."

Ridahne looked up at the leafy emerald sky and studied the way the leaves rubbed up against each other. "You talk a lot about farming like it's a lesser trade. Like it's lowly and mundane. And maybe to you, it might seem that way since that's all you've known. I think I felt the same way about fishing when I was growing up. I saw weavers and potters and jealously admired the results of their work. I saw horse breeders and far-traveled merchants and was envious of their freedom. And I saw the eija and how beautiful they were...not their faces necessarily, I don't mean that kind of beauty. But beauty in motion. With their beautiful sashes and glittering swords, and their glossy horses and the money and freedom and power they had. The absolute poetry of their skill in what they did. And I longed for that and resented every trip to sea and the reek of fish. Weirdly enough, I got what I wanted. And it was so much more than I bargained for. Well...you know how that turned out. And there are times that I regret not having a different set of skills. Don't get me wrong, I love the sword and the artistry and control it takes to wield one properly. I have no doubts that was my calling in life. But sometimes I wish that my skillset wasn't the harbinger of death and pain. Do you know what it's like to know that's your purpose?" Ridahne made a face that she quickly smoothed over, but even she couldn't hide it from Darin completely. Her visage contorted as if someone had pressed a block of ice against her back, and she was trying not to yelp or gasp. 

"By nature, what you do is nurturing. You create and sustain life. I...destroy it." She grew deathly serious as she said, "Do not aspire to become me, Darin. I am not a model to shape yourself after, not for you." Her tone softened a little. "I need your calloused, dirt-smeared hands as much as you need my ink-stained ones." Ridahne put a hand on her shoulder and touched her forehead to Darin's. Whether the human knew it or not, it was a deeply intimate gesture in the Azurei culture, reserved for those who had earned trust, understanding, and kinship. She had to bend down to do it, as Ridahne was tall even among her own people. "We are two halves of a complicated whole, Darin Seed-Bearer. Each necessary for the other's success. The next time you doubt that, just remember this: If I did not 'outclass you' in some things, then you would have no need of me, and I would have long since been executed, and my bones would lie in the dust." 

Ridahne pulled away, but she took Darin's hands and seemed suddenly to burst with excitement. "I'm going to go back and finish my research, feel free to join me or otherwise occupy yourself as you wish. But be back at the inn tonight, because I want you to be there when I mark my ojih. I will show you the ceremony, but I want you to have the honor of making the first strike of the needle. Don't worry! I'll guide your hand, you simply need to tap the needle. It would mean so much to me." And with that, she glided back inside to the study room to finish her task.