[Deorlin]

Deorlin's head swam in a foggy mist, his limbs feeling like leaden sticks. The only sound he heard was the thumping of a drum somewhere, very far off, but very rhythmic.He no longer felt the water against his skin; his body was numb and unresponsive to the tentative signals he was trying to send it to move. Once again he tried desperately to remember what had happened, but it was still a blur.

Time passed, Deorlin slipping in and out of consciousness. At one point, he dreamed he looked up and saw a face, the face of the woman he had sneered at back at the inn, at Edoras. Now why would she be in his dreams? He felt himself being tugged at and pulled; at first he thought it was a wolf, worrying at him, trying to nip at his legs and arms. Where was his sword? Then the wolf changed into the woman again, and she bending over him, speaking to him, calling his name. But her voice was so far away - he saw her lips move but heard no sound. The woman melted away and once again he was being pushed and pulled, this way and that. He felt his body rising, being lifted up, and for an instant he felt the warmth and smelt the wonderful animal smell of horse. He might have groaned, he really didn't know. Then all was blackness again and the dream was gone.