The waking ice blue sky, fresh and crisp, belied Guriwen’s churning thoughts and she peered around the corner to Alairif’s cozy cabin to see no sign of life yet, this morning. Settling in the gazebo, she looked over at the pond, silently wishing Cygnus was back and wondering if she should go see him and make a trip to Minas Tirth too.
The stern hard visage of that scout, her sure and sardonic smirk filled her vision. She was like one of Celebannor’s big cats, ready to hold prey down while it delivered the killing snap to the poor creature’s neck.
