--the writing seems to have been discarded not long after, forgotten and abrupt--
I feel pensive and brooding... I have crossed into lands I shouldn’t have; though through such cause I have found amity amongst others. I feel so out of place yet I am anxious of the news we bring to the rest of the Eored. Eovind fell, or so it appeared, though he was taken with haste and I have not yet been able to find him. The maiden, Driadriel, I kept watch for... at least until the northward camp.
This place has a sense of foreboding, gloom ebbing its way... I barely sleep here. But we all need rest. I dreamt... though I felt it was real... A steed, ablaze and lighting up the forest... the flames licked the air from its back and mane as it galloped beneath the boughs of darkened trees. On its back rested those who had fallen, like a pyre it was lit, though it cantered across dried leaves and left its charred trail. I awoke, still amongst those trees and still preoccupied. My mind doesn’t have the strength for this.
____________
We will continue our aid, lay the dead to rest in their rightful places before I seek council with Lord Ehris...
