When Lamaenon had not returned before dark from his hunt, the garrison stationed at the gates of Moria had opted to send someone after him. Astaras had volunteered to go look for Lamaenon. He had found the elf halfway between Mirobel and the garrison. The guard dismounted his horse in a rush and ran the last bit of distance.
Lamaenon lifted one of his hands to appease Astaras. His other hand held at his aching side. "Peace. I am fine. A badly bruised rib or two. The scratch is not as bad as it looks."
