Helm silently leaned back on a pile of orc bodies, the stone wall not much better to sit on. His brother, the medic, was fussing over his injury, “You’ll be fine-- If you sit still. Stop it!” The younger man reached up to cuff Helm’s ear. Helm grumbled and stayed still, letting his brother tend to his wound. Egfor approached and collapsed on the pile beside Helm. 

Helmwod was a bit stricken at being separated from his brother’s and cousins in the ranks, but wouldn’t admit it; Egfor was an archer, he was somewhere up higher with his bow, one of Helm’s brothers was a medic and he was busy running around seeing to people. Two brother’s were engineers, and they were up with the siege equipment. Helmwod was a spearman, a common infantry man. Helm was alright with that, as he did not want nor need any special training.

Helm pulls up beside another rider, “Hullo there, cousin!” An older, blonde man looked up and grinned, “Westu hal!” Helm hesitated, nodding to another dark haired man on the other side of Egfor, “Good to see you too, Wulf.” Wulf gave a gruff nod, barely acknowledging Helm. Egfor looked over at his cousin, striking up a friendly conversation as they rode.

"I don't understand why you want to leave, after all I've done for you."

Where in the World is Lady Seregrían?

(A silly little song, sing along if you wish!)

"You deserve someone better."

The words of that flirtatious woman in the Pony haunted her. Eira shuddered, shaking in her dream and extending her scarred, bloated hand to the man she had given her heart too.

"Please," She begged, facing the hurt and angry Angmarim before her, "Don't go..."

Nimraph scoffed, hurt and bitter, "How could you yell at me like that? You know it hurts! And lash out at the boys too! My sons mean more to me than anything and you hurt them too!"