small miracle

It seems my dour companion has found his voice! I would like to think that it is the pleasure of my company that has warmed him, but I think it is because I remain the only company in this wilderness. Today he was bright and engaging - even though there were problems on our ride, the time passed swifter for the conversation. We spoke of the old tales of Men, and rode to the summit they now call Weathertop. Such a sorry thing, to see it in ruin. From the heights we could see the road ... and I wished I had not looked out. A man, attacked by another man, surrounded by those dreadful birds ... stabbing with their bills as he was stabbed by a knife. We were too far away to stop it... I think even Aldalin with her great bow could not have reached so far. Now I have woken up memories of Aldalin's cooking ... but memory is not as fulfiling as a real pastry made by her! I should visit the household before I return east. I suppose it will be east. Araenion's longing surrounded him like a cloud when we turned back westward. I should not deny him a return to his homeland - and in truth I would like to see a land of high and fair Men and see the swan banner in the breeze. His talk of the beauty of the land, the warmth.. and the sea... I wander! It is a pity that Randir is silent so much. When he speaks his voice is low and rich, many layered ... like polished wood. I shall set myself the task of hearing him sing before we get to Annuminas!