There is naught here but grass, stars, and children. Grass, in an endless sea that stretches from horizon to horizon, night-darkened and whispering secrets to itself. It moves and sways, casting rippling shadows as it gossips of the wind's rudeness. Stars, in an endless, moonless sky. So very many of them sparkle, some close, some far, that it seems sweet Elbereth did not save a single gem for herself.
And children, eight of them. Little Quendi wade through the plains in an uncertain direction with no landmarks to steer them, laughing and talking, sometimes running. Here, one stops, a little black-haired boy, and upwards does his pale face turn. It seems even the littlest of the Firstborn hears the sirensong of the gems, and this one loses himself in them a brief moment. Taudhoron shivers, twice, then looks around to see if any of his companions noticed.
For the chill of late autumn may be felt true, so far are they from Lothlorien's borders.
As keen as Taudhoron might be... another young edhel is just the opposite. Rather, without even the slightest trace of trepidation does Gailglin bound forward, a delighted smile cast across his delicate countenance. The shimmering veil of stars bound within the expanse of the wee scout's cape sway amid the ensuing breeze, causing the pinpoints to wink in and out amid the flutter.
Spiriting forth a step, the young Silvan then offers gleefully "According to my map... we... have a swiggle-length to go?" Flaxen brows both arch in light regard of the unfurled piece of parchment, which itself is scrawled in swift quill strokes wrought from Gailglin's hand.
And ahead of them all, standing on the slightest rise in the endless prairie, is the instigator of this trip. Rhibi peers ahead, then all around. Finally he looks up at the jewel-spattered sky and seems to forget where he is and what he is doing. For deep in his blood is the memory of days when no light but the stars ever shone on Middle Earth. Finally, he drags his eyes back to the scattered children, his attention caught by Gailglin. "Let me see." He crowds up next to the map-holder, peering at the scrawled lines, forehead wrinkling in thought.
Tromping along just behind Gailglin, Magliell waves her "sword" in the air, fighting imaginary yrch that were threatening to kill all of the Fangornhrim. Delivering the fatal thrust to the last one, she trips and falls forward, tumbling along the ground. Picking herself up in time to hear the edhel's comment, she says, "One swiggle-length? How far is that?" She stops a minute, picking leaves out of her brownish-blonde curls, before running to catch up to him, stick sword dragging on the ground beside her. "Well?"
A skip, and Taudhoron dashes toward the map-bearer and minstrel. Half of his hair has come loose from its tie and whips behind him in the little breeze he creates for himself. He draws near just in time to hear Magliell, and calls ahead, "Aye, how far are we away?" He skids to a hopping stop before Gailglin, and his little fingers tug at the top of the map in an attempt to peer down at what is written. "I hope we get there soon. I mean..." His clear gaze slides sidelong toward his best friend and their captain, and he adds, "Well, it's very odd having no trees about, isn't it? It's like...things are watching you and you've nowhere to hide." He presses his lips together and stands up straighter, throwing a glance to the nearby elleth. "Not that I'm afeared, mind you."
Gailglin's bright cerulean eyes blink up owlishly at the elleth's inquiry, then onto the rest of his compatriots as the diminutive edhel somehow muster even more levity amid his ever-elated face. Then, offering a succinct, chiding tap at Taudhoron's hand does the wee Silvan sidle a smile... as the then lilts upon presenting the map to the fray "See? A swiggle's distance..." And indeed, as the slender finger gestures, the swiggle... or squiggle, representing the grass lands, seems to end at the threshold of Fangorn, which itself is represented by gobs of green ink.
Gailglin last steals a wistful smile on toward Taudhoron as he chimes, his voice the din of a bell in its musing "The grass is taller than I, Cabor. I need not worry about hiding... maybe if you walked on your knees you would be safer from all the dragons and bats that hunt ebon-haired edhil at this time of night?"
Rhibi scowls at the map. A lock of brown hair falls into his eyes and impatiently he shoves it back. A small finger reaches out to trace the squiggle to where it ends in a colorful blob. Then he turns around and looks to the south. The grass that waves on all sides is nearly as tall as he is. The self-styled captain crouches a little and then hurls himself into the air. He still doesn't get very far above the ubiquitous grass, and after a few more leaps into the air, turns to his companions. "Help me," he says. "Give me a boost up, so I can see."
Taudhoron scowls at Gailglin. "There aren't any dragons here." He pauses, then adds uncertainly, "...I don't think..." He shakes his head, loose hair slithering across the starlight caught in his shirt, and moves to crouch before Iaurfer. "Here, Rhibi, stand on my shoulders."
Magliell bites her lip, looking uncertain. "There's dragons here?" She thinks for a moment, and looks down at the stick she is holding in her hands. "I'll fight them off, if there are any! With my sword, I am invincible!" She runs off a little ways, ignoring the edhel as she turns to fighting the imaginary dragon. "Drat this dress!" can be heard soon after, as her sword gets tangled in it while she was trying to cut off the dragon's tail.
"Ok." Rhibi puts his hands on Taudhoron's head, mussing the sleek black hair. Pushing down a little to brace himself, he sets first one foot and then the other on the other boy's back. Arms spread just a little for balance, he straightens. "Ok, stand up now."
"Watch out for the...!" calls forth the ever-audible Gailglin after the fleet-footed Magliell, though the wee Silvan's voice trails to wistfulness amid her subsequent fall "... nevermind." A smug smile then sidles toward the two balancing edhil as he further muses, the swiftly-scribed map held aloft as he gingerly decrees "Let me see..."
"Hey, Rhibi! I am the lookout, remember...?" then seems to steal Gailglin's attentions as he frets momentarily, but in But if you want to be the lookout... then _I_ get to be the Master of the Map. Okay?" Then, as the two work on their coordination, the littlest of the adventures sighs in soft exacerbation "What would they do without me?"
Slowly does Taudhoron straighten his small form, laughing suddenly after Magliell's speech and causing himself to wobble a bit. The laughter is cut off in a hurry at that, and with an eye to the edhel on his shoulders, he stands his full height. His hands raise to cover his friend's toes, and he calls up, "Can you see anything, Rhibi? Shall I turn?"
He lowers his voice and speaks in exasperation to the golden edhel near. "Of /course/ you can't be the lookout right now, Ethir." Smug importance seeps into his tone as he continues, "Rhibi and I have done this before."
The unexpected edhel-quake beneath him, sends Rhibi's arms flailing widely. "Hey! Careful! You'll knock me off." Catching his balance, he shades his eyes with one hand (completely unnecessarily, since the sun isn't shining) and gazes across the grasslands to the south. Whooping, he jumps from Taudhoron's back and lands nimbly on the ground in front of him. "I saw it! Over there! Come on, it's not very far. I can see the trees." Without waiting, he dashes off, then stops to wave the others on. "Come on!!"
Taudhoron whoops and dashes forth, running nimbly through the grasses, although his path curves to bring him suspiciously near one Hinloth. He skips in the general direction where Rhibi points, lost in the child-crowd.
Sword dropping to her side, Magliell pauses and watches Rhibi start off. Dragon completely forgotten, she tucks her the stick under her arm and picks up her skirts, not wanting to trip again. "Wait...up!" she gasps out as she runs. "I can't run that fast!"
At the head of the straggling band, Rhibi hears a wail from behind him. Turning a little, he skips sideways and then jogs backwards. His lower lip pokes out discontentedly, but he slows his pace a little. "Come on," he calls again, encouragingly. "It's only a little ways more." But in the grasslands, distance might be deceptive.
Putting on a little burst of speed, Magliell draws even with him, green eyes flashing in his direction. "I hope so," she grumbles. She adjusts her grip on her skirt, taking her 'sword' out from under her arm and holding it so that it won't bang against her. "I don't like all this grass..."
Rhibi slows to walk besides the girl and grins at her. "It is. Honest. I saw the trees." A broad sweep of his arm to the south shows where. "Right over there." Looking down at the trampled grass and then back at the endless expanses fencing them in, he mutters. "I don't like it either. Anything could be hiding out there." With a little shiver and wide green eyes, he glances back again as if to reassure himself that everyone is still there. No monsters have joined the party. Then he remembers his role as intrepid adventurer and says stoutly. "But don't worry. We will find the forest soon. That will be better."
Magliell glares at him, shaking her stick at his chest. "I hope you're right. Or else...or else...I'll...you'll be sorry!" With a decisive "Hmph!" she takes off again, light curls bouncing around her head. Still, she went slower than before, carefully looking around for monsters as she went, 'sword' held out before her, just in case.
"Of course I'm right," Rhibi says indignantly. "Didn't you hear me? I saw them. They're just over that way." Setting his chin stubbornly, he marches into the jungle of grassland. But alas for Rhibi, it is true he saw the trees, but they are much farther than he thought; and when the sun is up, the small band is still toiling. There is near mutiny in the ranks and finally, he stops. "All right. We can stop. Again!" He plops down and feels in his pouch. "I still have half of a piece of lembas. Is anybody hungry?"
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