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Old 11-21-2007, 05:45 PM   #119
mark12_30
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THe snow fell thick and fast, and the horses put their heads down against the driving whiteness. Gond and Roheryn minded it little, but the rohirrim's horses were less pleased.

Ravion let Ædegard and Jorje take the lead. Jorje whined and sometimes zgged back and forth, but always swung back up the mountain. Ædegard urged him on, and the rohirrim followed, with the Easterling on his tall lanky chestnut close behind. Ravion and the elf-woman-- Mellonin-- brought up the rear. Ravion watched her anxiously.

The elf-woman did not mind. It was good to be watched; it was good not to be alone. It was good, she thought, to have a friend. She had not had a friend in a long time.

"Your hands are cold. And your face must be also. Wrap your face against the cold. And lay your hands on Roheryn's neck."

"My hands grow stiff indeed, friend. I will heed your counsel."

Ravion was relieved to see Mellonin wrap her scarf tighter, and then bend forward, and lay her hands along Roheryn's thickly-furred neck.

Ædegard's voice cut through the driving wind as he urged Jorje forward. Ravoin wondered how long their food stores would last, and whether they would find dry wood to burn come nightfall.
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