(--) It shouldn't, nope. Just no spaces or anything. 
Just make sure, of course, you're all saved up on the original page, since you'd be navigating away without a save. ^^
Ithiel is by me!
The dust-colored hybrid nodded, but did not comment on her size. He had learned from Myrika to avoid commenting on such. Instead, he shrugged and only smiled faintly as she professed to have nothing to give in return. Gift, not trade, he corrected, although it was a gentle sort of correction. You needn't give me anything in return. It does take skill, but perhaps you'll like it. If not, return it to me and I will find another warrior to wield it. It was little matter to Ithiel, either way -- if he could find a strong hand to string and shoot the bow, all the better. If not, he would always have a back-up. My schedule is much the same. No night scouting for me, Ithiel said. He did so on rare occasions, rising when sleep was refused him.
With the talk of the arrows, Ithiel paused in his plucking and stretched his fingers briefly, shaking them out. They're durable enough -- eventually, yes, all arrows need refletching, he said, wondering. Maybe there is a way to restore them, and I am simply ignorant. He grew thoughtful and contemplative, glancing at Willam. Perhaps I should read a book, he suggested, shrugging a birch-dusted shoulder. Myrika tells me there is much information in them, and that I wrong myself by reading only the one book. Ithiel rarely, if ever, read stories other than the ones he found in the bible. Fiction was a pursuit of leisure, and little of Ithiel's time was occupied by that.
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