As, comparatively speaking, a more recently-interred inhabitant of the Barrow, Zigūr loitered nervously in the background, occasionally muttering something about the "fatuousness of modern culture" to reassure anyone who might be interested that he had not undergone a radical transformation over the intervening months.
__________________
"Since the evening of that day we have journeyed from the shadow of Tol Brandir."
"On foot?" cried Éomer.
|