The rain was not showing any signs of stopping. Fáinu lifted his head from thought and peered across the path. There were a few trees now very wet and dripping water. Fáinu shook his head and pulled his hood down, he then turned and opened the door to the inn. he was met by a few drunken hobbits shouting, "It’s a bit wet out!" followed by roars of laughter and applause from his friends.
Cree was sat alone still. Fáinu had debated in his mind for long enough, he had made a dissension. He now had to trust in Crees decision, and perhaps test her loyalty. He approached her and sat on the opposite side of the table. Cree arose from thought to see him sitting there, his eyes were fixed on her, and they were stern. He laid a large knife upon the table, but kept his bandaged hand upon it.
"Cree, I believe that we have come now to the point," he began, Cree tilted her head, not quite understanding him, "for now is the time for you to prove your words and follow he whom all else abandoned." she began to understand. "Tomorrow I shall leave for rivendell, and I shall ride double pace, for I am already late."
He pushed the knife towards Cree and released it. It was a beautiful knife. The hilt was of bronze; jet so bright was it, that Cree almost mistook it fore gold. Upon the handle were set many runes of power and gems. a large emerald there was in the centre of the hilt, it glistened in the dim light and Cree marvelled to see such a thing.
"It is all I have left of my mother. This knife has seen many through combat, more so than most swords." He placed Cree's hand upon it, "I bid you take this, if you wouldst follow me. To death, anguish, and perhaps glory." he smiled at her and awaited her response on bated breath.
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