================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Mid Morning < About 9:39 AM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 10 Echuir <Stirring>
Moon phase: Waning Gibbous <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 17 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3041>
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RL time: Sat Sep 29 21:13:14 2007
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Contents:
Tolur (Temped by Galharth)
Maglind
Angroch
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The mid-day sun beats down with all its might, through through all its effort manages little through the cold air of late winter. A slight breeze licks through the camp, causing tent walls to ripple slightly as fabric protests against rope binding it to wooden poles.

From one such tent ducks the Iron Horse of the North, the flap of the entrance closing behind him. He glances around him as his eyes adjust to the sun. He squints and cocks his head to the sky, then brings his look to a small fire, on which a metal bowl sits. He goes to this bowl and takes a wooden spoon, stirring the contents.

Impatient, or perhaps nervous, the Warden Tolur paces outside the camp. His gaze sweeps from northeast to the west, and all points inbetween. "T'is a perfect time to move," the Guard mutters under his breath as he paces over the frozen snow. He makes no mark to reveal his path, and yet there are many tracks present in the snow. "Give them too much time, and we'll not catch them." Clearly he seems anxious.

Impatient, or perhaps nervous, the Warden Tolur paces outside the camp. His gaze sweeps from northeast to the west, and all points inbetween. "T'is a perfect time to move," the Guard mutters under his breath as he paces over the frozen snow. He makes no mark to reveal his path, and yet there are many tracks present in the snow. "Give them too much time, and we'll not catch them." Clearly he seems anxious.

"Rush ahead, and we'll run into their camp," replies Maglind heavily. He pores over the wrinkled map in his hand, poking at it with a twig. "How old are those tracks, Tolur?"

Seemingly obvlivious to the conversation, Angroch pulls a loaf of bread from a sack and tears of a chunk. He stirs more of the contents, a stew, and dunks a chunk of the bread into the stew. He takes this, the steam of the heated meal fogging fiercely in the winter air, and stuffs it in his mouth. He chews and swallows.

Only then does he bring his eyes to the two firstborn. He watches them before grabbing another chunk of bread, "Time enough for running into yrch when our stomachs are full, friends. That the tracks lead away is a very welcome sign."

From afar, Angroch's been impressed by yer IC and OOC contributions to Lorien and thinks you'd make a welcome addition to the best culture on Elendor.

"Days at least, Maglind, it's clear enough to seen." Tolur says with a frown upon his lips. "Older than I like to follow, but in the absense of anything else it's all we have." Frowning severely, he glances in the direction of the Ranger. "They lead away at this point, that too is clear, but there is nothing saying that they don't look southwards at some point." Folding his arms over his chest, he turns his gaze to Maglind. "Those who delay often find sorrow in their reluctance to pursue. Let us go forward, and find them whilst they do not even know we look."

Maglind plants his foot in one of the depressions: not long ago an orc took the same path. He sighs, and his breath forms weak clouds. "Tell Thorhur that we will break camp. Angroch, please take your meal with you and douse the fire."

The ranger laughs softly and takes another chunk of bread, dipping it in the stew and putting it in his mouth. He chews, breathing cold air around the bite to cool the hot food. " I assure you, we have nothing to fear, now. When chance gives, a warm meal helps more than worry. I agree we should press on, lest carelessness lead to unforseen attack. However, having seen the signs this fine day, a small fire and warm stew is no risk at all."

He looks to Tolur, "My friend, please rest your eagerness. The cautious tracker oft lives a much longer life. I ask ye to trust me on that point, for long have I tracked, and long have I lived."

Eying the Ranger as if he'd grown a second head. "You are likely right mellon, but since one of the more recent attacks was upon my wife's brother, I can not find the patience that should be present."

Nodding to Maglind's directions he seems to visibly calm. "Let us track them and be done with it." he mutters softly. Peering about, he frowns. "Clearly Thorhur is focused on other matters, but I will be sure to tell him your instructions when he arrives back."

A frown appears involuntarily upon Maglind's face. "Galharth..."

He busies himself with rolling up the bedding. "We're here to hunt their presence, not track their leftovers. But Angroch is right that we must be cautious. I don't want to run into the middle of their camp."

Finishing the step, Angroch stands and looks northwards. He glances at the small fire, then at Tolur. "I appologize, as I knew not of the attack on your family, and, from previous talks with you, I know what that means. Of course, we should strike out and ensure your lands are safe."

He glances towards Maglind, "And I stand firm by cautiousness, ere we run headlong into a garrison. The day was I would welcome such an instance, but," he glances at his hands, which appear normal save he flexes them slightly, "Recent occurances tend me to stead with more stealth than ferver."

"Indeed Maglind." Tolur says softly, confirming the source of his frustration. "Granted a portion of that event was due to his inexperience, but in the end that matters not. He was attacked, as were a good many of our fellows. It's gotten out of hand."

Following the other Warden, the Guard begins to dismantle the tent. To Angroch, he shrugs a shoulder. "Family, or friend, or even one unknown, any attack against Lothlorien is felt by all."

Frowning, he seems to pay attention to the efforts of dropping the tent. "You are right ranger. Stealth is needed this day, but need can not change my hearts desire."

The ranger stands tall, eyes fixed north as the elf guard speaks. He looks to Maglind as he packs his tent, only bringing eyes to Tolur after his words have faded on the soft late-winter breeze.

"Your words ring as true as the gurgle of a freshwater spring. When one's people is attacked, it is felt by friend, family and stranger alike, for a bond is there which is felt regardless of the blood which binds it."

The Iron Horse returns to his tent and begins breaking camp in like with his firstborn comrades. He stops for a moment, glances north, and a CRACK is heard in the woods. Suddenly, a bird breaks free of a fir and launches into the pale, cool blue sky. Angroch shakes his head and returns to breaking camp. "We will continue as you say, though with great cautiousness and hope that our tracking will find nothing more than faded yrch tracks, the sides of which are rounded and crusty with old snow."

His tent rolled, the ranger stands and works his neck, frowning for a moment before he turns and smiles, "Still, I am grateful more than you know that, be it as grave a mission as we now face, I am happy to have such honorable companions."

Tolur pauses his efforts to look upon the human.... nay, not just any human, but a Dunadan. "Sir," the Guard says in a voice that rings of melody, "It is our pleasure to count you among our numbers." Though his words are few, it is clear that they are heartfelt.

Pausing only a moment more, the ellon returns to his packing. Finishing quickly he rises to his feet and hoists a pack upon his back. "I'm going to go ahead a few paces to check the tracks. If you need me, send forth the call of the robin and I'll be back.

Moving off ahead of the others, the Warden carefully inspects the tracks, and while not far, he is apart from the other.

~RP Continues ~