Rest and recompense

Cynraede sat staring into the fire that burned brightly in front of him. The days past had held many challanges which not only tested his nerve but his body he never could have imagined. He had killed men before, in self defence. It was all together a different story to take the lives of people who didn't take the first strike, people who merely begged for their life only to have it taken from them. Who was he to take these lives? He poked the fire with a stick as he thought these things to himself, torn between the lines he faced to find his friend. There were other ways to find Duramarth, men where not intended to be hunted in such a way. Orc are different, foul creatures created by the fell darkness that lay waiting to siege the lands of middle earth. They inflicted pain and destruction, never feeling the wrath they give away so freely unto others. This, however would change. He looked deeply into the fire, wondering if he was capable of doing such a task. It was obvious Duramarth had found his place in the world, and was doing well. Perhaps he could do the same, would people accept the hunter of the darkness? Questions swirled in his young mind, things of unsurety, doubt and fear. He would find Duramarth, and return him to his order. He had to, he owed him at least that much. What did Duramarth see in him to take him under his wing, to treat him like a son? What ever it was, he must have looked deeply into him, because even the young man could not even see it.