barrowdowns

The ruins of some kind of establishment of Cardolan stood before Eira. The ruins were destroyed by time, crumbling and toppled. She scuffed her shoes as she took step after step towards the ruins. The ancient stonework was etched in symbols of Numenorean heritage. The numerous walls were carved with stars, historical events, important people... Only a handful Eira could point out, from before the Fall of Numenor. Half Black Numenorean, she had been taught history through the perspective of the King's Men, not the Faithful.

Seregrian continued to eat, saying "But come, Eira, begin your tale while we dine."

The wight stood several feet away, having stopped to look around. Eira waited, hoping it would go away. Instead, a bitterly cold and vile voice arose from it, icy eyes narrowing, "You cannot hide, mortal."

How long had she wandered?

The fog never ceased, and the night was never ending. Carefully placing her walking stick before of her every step, she meandered the endless, rolling hills and barrow mounds. Only the occasional stone peer broke the scenery of fog, grass, and rolling mounds. She was hastily losing track of the time as she walked on and on.

You live and learn; or in my case you live, learn and suffer.

I am endeavouring to learn the ways of Hobbit life after spending so much of my life outside of the Shire in the company of Elves. Master Elrond said that it was important for me to become an asset to my community (and my eventual kin - whoevery they may be).