[Nerindel]

Léspheria watched as Silvanis rose from his seat, his bicep's bulged and rippled in the soft glow of the firelight as he stretched the stiffness from his limbs. As he sat back down gazing thoughtfully into the burning embers of the fire, she gazed at his rugged features. She couldn't help but smile, remembering a description she had once heard.

'A soft pale rose amidst a tangle of coarse thorns and wild brambles.'

The speaker had of course been speaking of her beauty amidst the rugged weather beaten Rangers she traveled with. But to her it was a more accurate description than anyone could have imagined.

A soft rose although beautiful and delicate to look on, also have thorns of their own and all that knew her knew to be weary for her thorns were deadly, in battle her ferocity matched that of any of her companions. As for the Rangers being compared to the rugged and coarse thorns of a wild untamed bramble bush, this too held true. Their weather hardened features and their often weather stained attaire gave this impression, but even the wildest bush bore the sweetest fruits. Their gentle kindness, loyalty and love for those they named friends was unmatched by any other race of men she had met. Yes, they hid it well but it was there and a part of their nature for those who cared to look for it.

As she gazed at Silvanis she could see that this too was indeed true of him. He then turned to her saying 'Have you been to the south of the Anduin, especially now that it is somewhat safer to travel the ancient caravan routes of Harad and Khand? I could tell you of my journey's there if you like.'

'Indeed I would' she replied with a sparkle of intrest in her soft grey eyes, 'Indeed I have not been that way, the furthest south I have been is to the fair lands of Ithilien' she continued. She took a long sip of her cider and waited patiently for him to begin.