Vinyalonde

Elenya, the 13^th day of Coirë

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Elenya, the 1^st day of Coirë

A curt knock sounded at the door, and Alyanissë turned from her place beside the anvil with an expectant look toward the entrance of the forge.

"Will you get the door, Lothelian? 'Tis Makanárë, without a doubt." Lothelian hurriedly wiped her hands on her apron, and straightened the braid which hung crookedly over one shoulder. The door-knob rattled a bit, and the door itself opened before Lothelian could reach it. She watched, slightly mortified, as  Makanárë strode in, a rather unusual smile on her face.

Dear Cae, Warg-Slayer!

The measured, even steps of the soldiers covered the distance to the outposts as one unit. Hers was out of time – one and a half steps for each one of theirs. The two behind her did not seem to mind. It did not impede them in the least from carrying the same rhythm. How long had they been marching today? The sun betrayed nothing. Only the canopy of the forest grew denser and the darkness thickened as they trekked further south.

When Aurineth and the others had set to Gwingris to search for her Dove, Alagos, Annúngil had headed South on his own to scout the paths that lead to the mountains. He took the old road, making good speed on horse. He kept an eye out for any bird, but he did not sight a single dove; there was an unnatural number of crebain.