For the hundredth time, Tuilérie goes through her light pack, the bedroll, and spare supplies. "Lembas", she thinks to herself, and nods. And there is the map of Eregion, safely rolled and carefully stowed away in a water-proof case, as well as her fishing rod. She pats Nolandur gently on his head, who follows her around, tail wagging without cease, sniffing at everything.
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