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Owacyn was already awake hours before...truth be told he had barely slept. He was sitting high in the trees around Rivendell. He saw Arathorn riding up to the gates and dropped from the trees, mounting up himself, he got there to hear Elrond's farewell and smiled. At least Elrond hadn't seen anything bad in this venture...He rode up beside Arathorn and looked over at him, Arathorn smiled, "Already pessemistic, Owacyn?". Owacyn muttered "Not yet, but I'm sure I will be soon.", "It would be strange if you were optimistic." Arathorn shot back. "Mmm..."
Owacyn was still shaken by the dream, although it didn't mean much on the surface he was certain that it meant something...he sighed and looked back at the band and dropped back to talk to the twins.
"Elladan...I really think this could go wrong..."
"Already, Owacyn? By the stars, you're speeding up with age." Owacyn sighed deeply. "I know, but there's something that just doesn't feel right...we have no clue how many orcs there are or anything..."
"Elladan's right, Owacyn," chuckled Elrohir, "You really are getting faster to see the bad in situations."
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