The land blossoms, trees in fresh raiment green. The hare nurses her leverets and the birds tend their fledglings.
As Anor warms the land, the herth also is abuzz with activity. Hallothel, dearest gwathel of the bow, has given report of her time at Echad Rond to the Hirgonui, and her words bring uneasiness. She speaks of a cloak of silence that seeming veils the woods there, stifling all that would make sound, cry or song in natural manner of things. It is unsettling news, and obviously the cause must be found.
Hir Istuir has ordered Hallothel and I to depart and make close observation of the lands about Echad Rond, even unto the banks of the Baranduin. We are to depart at once - and I cannot deny that a thrill of excitement is stirred within me! To wander beyond the marches of Lindon again, to walk the wooded paths eastward...I gladly restring my bow and smooth the fletchings on a quiverful of fresh shafts.
The road beckons and the unknown awaits us...
