Herevion, observing the others with interest, could tell that many were angry, or disgusted, or quiet for other reasons. He, himself, merely kept silence because that was his usual state. He did not care for orcs, and it seemed that torture should be below the rangers, but he had not actively intervened. He did not care nearly enough.
He straitened his scabbard, dropping back to the end of the line with two others. He watched all around, but nothing seemed to be suspicious. A bit quieter than usual, perhaps. But it could be expected in these evil parts. Walking was a bit of a nuisance, but he did not much care that his horse was gone. He could walk as far as any other, and Thoron was not always needed. It mattered only how far Aragorn was.
He thought back for a moment to the battle, and was almost momentarily sick. It was his weakness. He had fought coolly, collectedly, as he did everything, receiving only a few shallow cuts. But it was not that... he never stopped others from killing, but himself... he did not mind at the moment of battle, ever. But now it made him feel, have feelings, and he did not like it. He was guarded because he had made himself guarded. He would need to work, for to help Lord Aragorn, he would have to stop feeling again...
[ June 17, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]
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"Glue... very powerful stuff."
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