Addiela

Like smoke she marks the passage, from fire into flame.

Like smoke she charts the damage, as madness waxes sane.

Like smoke she asks the questions, from darkness into light.

Like smoke she draws attention, as daybreak turns to night.

Cloaked in mystery, bathed in rage, tempered by terror, tested by pain.

I trust her yet she trusts not herself.

I know her yet she knows not herself.

We stand back and back....

and through her smoke, we are fire.

The company was making final preparations to depart from Bree as the sun rose. Mounts and pack animals were being assembled in the courtyard before the Prancing Pony as Barliman glared from the stairs, Nob hiding behind his leg as if he wished to confirm that the band were actually leaving. The Innkeeper had made clear to Xanderian and Xandilif the night before that if any more damage or upset were caused by the travelers, he would have to put a large surcharge on their already considerable tab.