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I suppose if my wrists ache too much to write at the pace to which I am accustomed, I should perhaps look for other diversions to fill my time. As it is, I might benefit from a few books from the library, if anyone would be so kind as to fetch them for me.
[Spam for Riddick]
[Most of the Marquis' time has been spent in his own bed resting. He has been seen, usually around lunch time and dinner time, fetching a meal for himself and Renate in the dining hall. At these times his cane has returned to regular use, and he has not stayed long, not even to chat. Now he is once again resting, with a small pile of books at his bedside that have been read and reread many a time and now therefore lack their old luster. Renate has gone to the main deck on walks with Riddick but beyond that has, with much concern, remained faithfully at her Master's side, often sleeping with him on the bed to share her warmth with him. She is settled with him, facing the foot and the rest of his apartments beyond, including the door leading out, her ears flicking back and forth while he turns the final pages of yet another book he has read at least three times in the years he has been here. His journal sits beside him, open and awaiting further comments. He looks tired, as though he may only need a few more pages before he is able to drift off into a short nap.]
[Spam for Riddick]
[Most of the Marquis' time has been spent in his own bed resting. He has been seen, usually around lunch time and dinner time, fetching a meal for himself and Renate in the dining hall. At these times his cane has returned to regular use, and he has not stayed long, not even to chat. Now he is once again resting, with a small pile of books at his bedside that have been read and reread many a time and now therefore lack their old luster. Renate has gone to the main deck on walks with Riddick but beyond that has, with much concern, remained faithfully at her Master's side, often sleeping with him on the bed to share her warmth with him. She is settled with him, facing the foot and the rest of his apartments beyond, including the door leading out, her ears flicking back and forth while he turns the final pages of yet another book he has read at least three times in the years he has been here. His journal sits beside him, open and awaiting further comments. He looks tired, as though he may only need a few more pages before he is able to drift off into a short nap.]
