The ever-lovely and talented Quae depicted Ceswyn reading a poem left in Tegil’s house. The below picture is a simple depiction of it. It’s written in colored wax, pink, and clearly a young girl’s hand. She’s only eight, and dearly misses her uncle. She hasn’t completely grasped the fact that he’s not called Dínendir anymore. Or the fact that it’s not proper to rhyme a word with itself. But she’s only eight! Also, feel free to click for the full size version.