Chase

Mornenion would have just finished running down from the ruin atop Amon Sûl. Despite the injuries he gained, he keeps moving at a running speed that is neither too slow or too fast, good for running long distances. He still has his bow in his hand, as he is pursing Domruth and those that took her so it is certain that his pursuit make take a dangerous turn. From where he is now, Mornenion can't see the figures but he remembers, and by judging on how many times he turned that brought him to this position, he assumes that they must be straight ahead of him.

One day a cart pulled by two horses and carrying various crates and two passengers arrived in Bree.  It suddenly became involved in a high-speed chase with two other horses.  The following is what various bystanders saw as the chase sped through the city.

-What happened to him?

-He must have killed himself.

And out somewhere in the cold, merciless peaks of the accursed Misty Mountains, home to few travellers and fraught with peril and danger at every turn, were two Elves, fighting against the cold in the Middle of nowehere, facing the frosty winds that blew on their faces like cold knives...