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Wight
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Re: Bree (Some years before the War of the Ring)
Beregond looked around him. The fog was gone, but where was the sun? He couldn't see anyone or anything, it was so dark. All he could feel was a cold unearthly wind. He shivered.
He tried to remember what had happened to him, but his memory was faint. After awhile, it started to come back to him; the fog starting to clear, the entranceway in the hill. He strained his memory. "Of course!" He remembered hearing Andy's frightened voice, though he couldn't hear what it said, and he could hear cruel laughter and voices in ancient tongues which he did not recognize. Then Andy had started to fade away, and... That was all he remembered.
He figured he was in a barrow, though how he got there he didn't know, and (he thought), didn't want to know. He shivered to think what the barrow-wights would do to him, if they caught him. He had better get out of there!
He could not see anyway out, and he did not know which way he had come in.
He was really thirsty. It felt like all the water had been sucked out of him. He felt for his pack. "Yes!", it was still there. He looked in it for his water skin, but he saw a white stone! He pulled it out, and saw that it was shining. "How came this to my pack?", he wondered. He clasped it in his hand, and the shining subsided. Nevertheless, he felt better.
"Where has everyone else gone?", he wondered.
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