Ealendil lets her gaze wander the rolling plains before the Redhorn Pass, no movement, no breeze stirring the grasslands, not even a bird of prey hovering in the air… It was the morning the day after she had left Earcalie north of the dry riverbed of Nan Sirannon. Earcalie had continued on her own back to Imladris, and Ealendil had since been following days old tracks from a large party going north.
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