Awrygan trailed in the rear of the party, content to let Rochelle take the lead now that their primary objective was accomplished. The city was quiet like the previous day, but a hidden warmth and joy seemed to linger in the early morning breeze.
He strode silently with soft but firm treads; his mind wandered and his hand subconciously played with the bizzare scar on the left side of his face. His eyes followed the small carriage moving steady towards the large gates of Dol Amroth. He could see a pair of figures conversing. He glanded at the children and could see their eyes focusing intently. "Do you recognize them?" he asked.
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"Dic, hospes, Spartae, nos te hic vidisse iacentes dum sanctis patriae legibus obsequimur."
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