The two sat around the campfire as Cynraede tended to Adunabel's wounds. The man placed a hand upon a buckle that he wore, removing it carefully as he tried to push into The Hunters hand.
"Please, my friend. It is my time." He placed his other hand on Cynraede's shoulder. Looking up to him with to him with weary eyes. The skirmish that had happened not even but half an hour before had left him with four arrows that had found their mark deep within his chest.
Cynraede looked down to the buckle, then to his friend and shook his head. "No, you can heal, I can..." He fell silent as Duramarth shook his head slowly.
"No, my brother. It is my time. I am called into the halls of my forebearers, but the Lady has visited me in my dreams. She calls you home. She said there is much to be done. You must go, find the others. You will find them in Her home. Do not fear, we will see each other again." He pushed the buckle to The Hunters chest.
Cynraede watched as the life left his eyes, tears beginning to roll down from his dirt covered cheeks as he knelt before his fallen comrade. He took the buckle in his hands, placing it carefully in his pack before standing and moving to gather stones.
Night had fallen, and he knelt before the cairn. "Nínion ne gwadedh, rest in peace my brother." His voice was quite and calm.
His horse stood just behind him, standing still as he quickly mounted and began his journey.
