Runa could not recall how long she had been standing in the spray of the waterfall that morning. She had ventured down to the water early in the morning before the sun had risen into the sky and washed the land in golden light. Her clothes and her hair were damp, but Runa did not seem to mind. They were just clothes, and her hair would dry, and after all, it was only water. Perhaps she should have been startled when Ithilwe suddenly appeared, but she hardly flinched. Only then had she noticed that the sun had risen. And though Runa would have lied if anyone were to ask, she did desire company, and of Ithilwe's she had become fond.
She had never come to Imladris to settle and spend the rest of her days, but there was something she loved about it nonetheless. And yet, her hair was being pulled by the stars again and Runa found herself looking west. She had not been to Celondim in many long years and she knew that no one awaited her there, but it still called to her. She would pass through the Bree-lands and perhaps she would visit with Cesistya, and perhaps she could tell her news of her brother, whom Runa had bid farewell to when she left Lothlórien.
