Grimbold fixed the woman with a piercing stare.
"My lady, adventure in this world is rarely unaccompanied by peril, hardship, and--most often--great sorrow. I do not seek adventure: the price of excitement in the wild lands of Middle-earth is commonly too high for the average traveller. Journey the lands if you will, my lady, but do not chase adventure, for soon enough, adventure will be chasing you, and you will wish you had never strayed from your home."
Grimbold seemed troubled.
"I am sorry, lady, but 'adventure' is bought with tears and blood. I do not know any wise man or maiden who would pursue it."
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Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountains. Like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the west. Behind the hills, into shadow.
How did it come to this?
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