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#11 |
Wight
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You have walked 60 miles.
You have passed Stock (52). You are only 6 miles from Buckleberry Ferry. You still have 398 miles to Rivendell. "Seeing greenlands and forrest is nice enough" he thought to himself. As he came along he realized that there where dark shapes on the horizon. The dusk was settling in like a grey mist on the land. Shadows grew long and the wearyness of day lengthened. All things seemed slow and murmured in this quickening grey. Still the sound of hoffs that passed from time to time seemed in the distance. Knowing that the fairy wasn't far off he decided to make his way straight through the night. Though tighered and hungry he knew who those dark shapes drifting along the shadows were. Heeding his own fear and danger at the growing cold. The shadows sliped into memory as he sat down to eat his meal for the evening. Not much more than sharp cheese and fresh bread. Good thing he stoped earlier. Nothing could have taken his strength more than a lack of good bread. Not making any fire to warm the chill running more frequently though him. He got ready for the 6 miles ahead. Then hopefully he could find solice in a nook of the road. Lay himself down and and let dark shadows that slip through sight not bother him. Even if it was only for this night. <font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:22 PM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: Eruantalon ] |
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