Taralphiel lay in the alcove watching the moon on its course through the sky. She had noticed a sickly coloured sheen had defiled its white hue, making it brown and almost disfigured. Evil was brimming from Dol Goldur.
But there was more. She felt him there. Eriador. The man named after the lands his fathers longed to journey to and behold. The Rohirrim. He was there and an urgency took her to save him.
Anarya looked at her 'He is there, isnt he?'
She nodded and shuddered
'What happened to you both? how did you come to be here like this?'
And so Taralphiel told her long story to Anarya, from Calembel to here, and for a moment she smiled amidst all the despair. For then she knew her allies were dearer to her now then she knew.
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