[alaklondewen]

Helen, would you mind attaching this to the bottom of post #68?

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The golden forest was pleasantly quiet as Erebemlin moved soundlessly through the trees. He was following a set of deer tracks that were heading toward the river. If he found the animal delayed by the water’s edge, there would be enough fresh meat for the next few weeks. With winter on the way, the ellon knew the importance of having meat before he and the others found themselves without for the remainder of the season.

As he neared the river, its quiet murmur met his ears. He stopped momentarily, leaning against a mighty mellorn and loosely fitted an arrow to his bow. Steadying his hand, he inhaled deeply and swiftly stepped over bringing the weapon to his eye and pulling the arrow back in one sweeping moment. The buck stood only a few yards from his position, and he readied himself to fire.

The arrow, however, never flew. Just as Erebemlin began to loosen his grip, a cry filled the forest. Speak to me. O Nimrodel, Nimrodel, sing to me again. Then, as quickly as it came, the call was gone. The hunter lowered his weapon and opened his heart searching for its source, but the thought had departed.

Nimrodel. Erebemlin was perplexed by this mysterious cry. The thoughts were so desperate, but who would be searching for the maiden who had long been lost to the world. He could think of only one, but his King had departed long ago for the lands West of the sea.