Ainemetion did look for the tears in Ihwesta's eyes. Sweet tears of release, he thought. She has seen much. This was probably her way of relieving the tension building in her as it was in all.
He longed for daylight, when they could once again be moving. Restless, he would never have stopped on his own, but would have fought off the tense feeling and fear by constant movement. He at the same time wished that this moment could last for eternity, that they would never have to face that which they dreaded, that death, and pain, and sorrow would be forgotten in the beauty of the woodland night.
As he thought over these things, Ainemetion's eye fell on Gilbereth. He turned quickly away; he was ashamed of the childish feeling. Every time he looked at that Elf he felt ill. Few things had ever so disgusted Ainemetion. Surely Ceros had had a purpose in bringing that one, but he could not see it. Every thing he did, every word from Gil's mouth grated one Ainemetion.
[ July 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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I yessessė Eru ontanė Menel ar Cemen. Genesis 1:1
Sign my lighter, Meela?
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