To this very day I have never known how many months I spent in the foreign land - even now my mind blurs if I try to reckon it up. Try as I may I can make it no fewer than twelve, and no more that twenty four. Nor am I certain how much time will pass before I shall once more be home, where I belong! Alas, that time as yet did not come to pass. Perhaps, and I think this more as I grow older, what I speak of ‘time passing’ happens only because men have made a habit of counting things, coins, the fingers on the hand of a newborn child, winters in their lives , how many day must pass or how many seasons before the corn is ripes again in the field, and a child grow in the womb and come to birth. Within my world I know nothing of the passing of time, and so for me it does not pass. I have come to think that time is really not important, time does not flow in Rohan unreckoned like the passing of a dream, as it does the the creatures that call themselves, the Eldars. And yet maybe time has began to drift a little, I can see the moon and the sun, and reckon my actions, and so time never wholly leaves us. I've been away for almost four winters , wandering foreign lands, alas maybe the time has come to ride once more, for when I heard the cry of my people it moves me deeply inside the heart, reaching my mind even my dreams of the one man I loved and lost and his last words for me “ ic þe lufie Morgayn!”
I set forward....let it be so!
