Of how Brenorn's world shattered, then started being built again.
"Strange as it may be, I still remember it, clear as water. I saw myself as a wolf, and there were more around me. My pack. Lots of armed men suddenly swarmed us in our den, and most of my brothers and sisters were being mercilessly killed by them. I fought, I was wounded, I ran... howls and screams behind me, blazing fires growing everywhere... I ran through the forest, lost and injured, for so long I can't remember... Then, I found the border, I walked out. Up on the night sky, shining under the moonlight, I noticed a black bird, a raven, flying in circles as if expecting me. It flew away, and I followed... seemed to be showing me the way, somehow. After days and nights following after it, suddenly, flames sprouted out of my own body, I felt myself burning, unable to yell or scream... then, I woke up.
I was naked from my waist up and covered in sweat, my chest roughly but firmly bandaged. Next to me, Breggo still shaked, covered in blood, and looked at me with his big hobbit eyes wide open. 'I... thought you were going to die, Bren, for sure!', the hobbit mumbled while fighting back his impulse to hug me. I grinned, but my attempt to get up stood at that, an attempt, since I was in pain, tired, and confused beyond what's possible to imagine. I took a look at myself, and around: we were back at our own camp, days after the battle or so Breggo said. He kept himself busy while I recovered, thanks to his attentions. He piled up our dead opponents: the five I killed plus Velkor, and the three he had to defeat himself. Illias and Arnor lied not far from the campfire, covered with blankets. I just stood there, not moving, for what felt like an eternity. 'What happened? What brought us to this? What now?... Why do I still breathe?'.
Days passed and, even though I was too weak to make huge efforts, I put my ragged armor and weapons back on, and helped Breggo with what was left to do. We buried our two fallen companions in the graves the hobbit had dug already, then we stripped our foes naked and left them scattered in the woods for the wolves to feast on. Before leaving them there, I tore Velkor's necklace off, and tossed it away from his body. We said our goodbyes to Illias and Arnor, then we got on our way.
We walked for days, at a very slow pace because of my wound. The scar on that one still haunts me to this day. How did I survive that? Sure, Breggo was there to save me from bleeding out and dress my wound, but he didn't have the knowledge... and it was not a wound I'd live through even if he had it.
When we arrived at the den, desolation awaited for us. I somehow expected it already. Many of our brothers and sisters were scattered all over the burning ruin, dead. We searched the bodies, and I finally found Gareth. His eyes, still open, and on his knees, not laying down, even though he was already dead. 'Old fool, I had told you...'. I watched his lifeless body for hours, until I decided to take his swords from him and tie them on my back, to at least safekeep that part of my father, mentor and best friend. Breggo and I stayed at the ruins for days, burying all of our fallen while we waited for any possible survivors to return. It was no use, as when we were done, nobody else turned up. Then, when we were about to leave, I noticed a marking on one of the trees: three slashes, resembling a claw's scratch. Mogrin's body was nowhere to be found, nor any of the children. That could only mean the dwarf took them away to safety moments before the attack happened.
With that relief in our hearts to ease the pain of the Grey Wolves being swallowed by a meaningless, invisible war ravaging the lands... Breggo and I left the den. We traveled south for a couple days, until he told me about his desire to return to the Shire. We rested at that same camp for days until he decided I was well enough to travel alone, then we said our goodbyes. It was a farewell not only to each other, but to all of our brethren, and the life we had led thus far. The morning of the next day after he left, I packed my belongings, sheathed my own blades on my belt, and Gareth's on my back, and set off to uncover the last part of myself I was still left to find out about. Off to Minas Tirith."
- Brenorn Greymane
