As the rider peered through dawn's gloom, he finally spied the elusive pair. Bringing his horse about, he left the path. Heavy-shod hooves left great marks in the ground as the armoured beast carried it's burden toward the foot of the cliffs.
Régnwald fixed his eyes at the approaching horseman, his eyes were ceased in half worry; though he kept his wariness. ''Westhu rider!'' he called after him from a distance, his voice was stout and firm and then he handed the reins over to Éohilda.
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