Fededhor felt the dread hit him like a wave of water. It was true...
He had, of course, suspected that something horrible had happened to the people of the settlement, but he had always kept the faint hope foremost in his mind that there was merely a small glitch in communication, nothing more. But now, he knew. It was definitely true. He looked back at Culedhel and Pherdur.
"We must move," he said. "We must round up the other men. I had hoped to stay until morning, but it is obvious that these people need our help."
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"Ah, and here you are," Pirk grunted, seeing Mauwurz bouncing along on his horse, encumbered by two indistinguishable objects. As he came closer, he saw that they were people.
Pirk pulled the woman off of Mauwurz back, casting her onto the ground, in the mud.
"Well now," he said. "This scrawny tark would barely make a snack, would it?" he eyed the other human, who seemed littler. "What's that?" his gaze settled on Mauwurz.
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" Where now are the Dúnedain, Elessar, Elessar?"
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