================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Midnight < About 12:33 AM >
IC day is: Orbelain <Valar-day>
IC date is: 10 Rhiw <Winter>
Moon phase: Last Quarter <VISIBLE>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 16 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3040>
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RL time: Fri May 04 17:11:04 2007
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Field Hospital
You are in a small clearing cut into the thickets. All about you, the bushes and trees grow thick and unwavering, blocking
out most of the sunlight and dimming the atmosphere. Despite the lack of sunlight or moonlight, the clearing gives of a
calm, quiet, secure feeling. Here is where the Cuigrithweg have made their Field Hospital. Several woven mats are laid about
on the ground in neat rows and a pair of small chests rest at the north side of the Hospital. High above the mats, a large
tarp is strung to provide some shelter on the off chance that it should rain.

Participants:
Galharth
Maglind
=====================================================================

The hour is late and a stillness remains over the Field Hospital which maintains a strange peaceful quiet. Few linger here,
with the healers outnumbering the patients. A soft breeze blows through the protected haven, bringing a sudden shiver to one
harbored within

Galharth opens his eyes and stares blankly towards the exit. He moves a bit, pulling slightly at the bandages that Mia has
placed against his back, causing him to gasp slightly. As he gasps, he pulls against his bound ribs, causing a second gasp.

In the refuge of deep shadows, Maglind is betrayed by the breeze.

It opens his cloak, flapping crisply; pushes back his hood, revealing a stark golden head.

Not too far from the cot, he watches Galharth with wide eyes, and rises to his feet. "Clothier -- are you in pain? Shall I
summon a healer?"

"Nay," Galharth replies softly, "Relief from pain that I can tolerate for a time comes at a price.

The Clothier pauses his words that for the moment seem lucid and clear, though he clearly seems to be concentrating on
breathing, "How is Haldir? And you? I do not remember all of what occured."

Maglind dodges a few branches, coming to sit on the mat next to Galharth's. Hugging his knees, he considers his answer. "I
am unscathed," the warden replies, eyes glowing in the gloom, "and Haldir is better. He -- it --- got away."

"I am sorry," he says, quite suddenly as he looks at the Clothier.

Shifting his eyes to look upon the Warden, Galharth frowns. "It is I who is sorry. I had meant to test that net alone." he
says with a soft voice that betrays his discomfort. "I am sorry Haldir was injured at all."

Closing his eyes, the crafter takes great effort to move his arm so that he might rest a hand on the mat before him. "It
worked better than I could have hoped."

"No," murmurs Maglind gently, "we would have not found you at all, had you gone alone."

He shakes himself, unpleasantly, as if dismissing a bitter memory, and hugs himself tighter. When the warden speaks next,
his voice is thick and wavering: "The net. We brought it home. Do not use it again. Not on trolls."

Closing his eyes, it almost seems as if the Clothier has drifted off to sleep, until his words whisper out. "At least not on
that Troll. It was not normal, was it?"

Opening his eyes, Galharth peers at Maglind. "And no, for a time my nets will be for fishing," Moving his arm once more, he
gasps in pain, enough so to pinch his expression. "I think the herbs Mia has given me are wearing off."

"It was cruel," the warden says in reply, as he rises and speaks quiet words to a passing attendant.

Sitting back down, he wraps himself securely in his cloak, as if it would shield him from memory. "It spoke like a man, not
a beast. What did it say? ... Respect another's life more ... cross another day..."

Maglind shivers in the darkness.

Nodding softly another gasp of pain escapes just as an attendant arrives. "Yes, I asked..." he says breathlessly as the pain
now begins to overpower his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, the clothier needs his rest now." The Attendant says to Maglind. "I'm going to give him something to make him
sleep."

"Thank you Warden," Galharth says as he gives himself over to the Attendants administrations.

"It will return," whispers Maglind as lightly as a breath. Without further explanation, he gathers up his cloak and slips
into the thicket of dark.