The path North of Rivendell.
Faorie stops at the archway leading into the vale from the Misty Mountains as a man, covered entirely in black, makes his way before her on his dark horse. He stops as well.
His horse begins to shift uncomfortably as a chill breeze rolls down the steep slope path, but he barely moves. He simply stares at Faorie silently.
Faorie raises her chin. "Leaving Imladris, I see. Are you prepared for the winds and snow of the mountains?"
The man scoffs. "Cold is not a concern of mine."
"What of your steed? Surely you have taken his well being into considera- "
"You're in my way, elf," he interjects. "I am in a hurry. I have no time to converse with one such as yourself. Now move aside."
Faorie furrows her brow, not moving. "If you continue on without the proper equipment you and your steed will likely find your end in the mountains. I recommend meeting with the tailors of the vale to find you something better suited for the cold. The choice is yours whether or not you heed my warning."
The man stays silent, staring coldly at Faorie.
After a moment, Faorie steps aside and gestures for the man to move along.
He roughly pulls on the reigns of his steed, causing it to neigh in discomfort before it begins its chill path Northwards. As the questionable traveller rides forward, he looks over his shoulder back at Faorie.
She watches him in return.
He then pulls up the drape covering his shoulders over his nose and mouth and turns forward, forcing his steed to speed up from a walk to a gallop. He rushes out of sight, leaving Faorie standing alone.
She begins to walk through the archway, still looking over her shoulder in the direction the strange man rode to.
Imladris is quiet and the dawn has come, and Faorie continues on her path towards the Homely House.
Standing under the archway.
