It has been some time since I have had anything of note to write about, and my journey through the Redhorn Pass has been too tedious and wet to attempt to bring out my journal. However, I sit now with the Golden Wood within view as dawn approaches, and I shall (hopefully) set foot within them on the morrow.
At any rate, let me try to describe my journey through the Pass, as it was certainly something I had yet to see in my young life.
The ascent was steep, and only became more so as I reached the snow line. It grew steadily colder, as well, but I'll admit that the view was exceptional. Caradhras loomed mightily over me, and the valleys far below me seemed lush and green compared to the whiteness of the mountain.
It soon grew harsh as I continued my ascent, and I was forced to put a blanket on my poor steed. I could feel it shivering beneath me, and I could only keep going so the beast would not freeze. Wind and snow howled around me, and I could see through the blizzard the path far ahead of me which began its decent.
It was arguably more dangerous as the path sloped downward, as the snow and ice were extremely slippery, but my steed was well-trained and traversed it with finesse. The lower I went, the lesser the wind became and I eventually passed beneath the snow line, to my relief. Of course, it was then that I glimpsed in the distance the first hint of gold to be seen after such perpetual white.
Now, here I sit within a day's ride of Lorien and my mind churns with apprehension. I cannot possibly know what awaits me in the Golden Wood, or Mirkwood thereafter. However, as I sit here beside the Mirrormere with my journal and a creased sketch of Cuileth I made, I know that whatever becomes of me, my spirit shall always be with her, in this world or the next.
