Parnard

“I know not where they are,” insisted Culuninnel, biting back at Estarfin's accusation. “But this cloak means -”

Again the Noldo advanced so that his large horse almost trod on the Captain.

Estarfin…

‘Estarfin…

…meldanya, can you hear me?’

Swan-Hoof had fortunately suffered no injuries, but she was restless and concerned, not only for Pelorian, but for Parnard and Danel. Both horses were tossing their heads, neighing and snorting. ‘Could the horses but speak,’ Yrill thought, not for the first time in her life. 

Mirdanel took her hand and grasped it reassuringly, with unexpected strength. She had always wondered at how an elleth with such small hands could forge as well as she did. But then for a Mirdan, small hands were a benefit. Istuil had seen the Lady work on larger items too. Though she did not have the strength…nor the skills of a metal-smith, Mirdanel was far stronger than she looked. 

Parnard rose to his feet and bowed before Estarfin as he approached us. He looked a little weary to me, though not overly so. We tried to take regular shifts of guard duty, he and I, Yrill and Ceuru and Filignil. Barahirn protested he was also able to take his turn, but we deemed he needed a couple more weeks rebuilding his strength. 

“I was hoping to drag Naergon out of his musings, but I haven’t seen him all day,” Earcalie said. “He has moved here as well. Waiting to make his mind up about sailing. You do remember him?”