Nindis was sitting on a rather comfortable oak branch reaching and arching over the Bruinen. Water was rolling below her as the Sun's golden light fell on her tresses like a waterfall. There was birdsong in the trees. Wind was playing on the shining flowers, making colours dance on the earth. The World was young again.

“Keep up that shrieking, woman, and I will slice both you and your brat’s throats,” the man, Ceadda, shouted. “Your husband should have let me kill you both back at the inn.”

A small, black form darted out of the Inn as two men left. The raven swooped into the trees, landing on a branch beside another. There were many ravens roosting in this particular area, all part of the same flock.
The raven named Ember settled after his flight, sidestepping closer to his mate, their wings brushing. 
The other raven, Era, looks over, "What news of the land-walkers, my love? How is our Keeper?"

Peace, calm, stillness. Three words that had been removed from Isulril's vocabulary for the past month at the very least. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of activity for her. She had seen so many changes that it had been difficult to keep up. Life was changing, and she was changing too.

The feeling of wishing to run had come to a crescendo for the woman. She had considered leaving everything, leaving Bree altogether, returning to Gondor as a disgrace. The disgrace that she knew in her heart that she was. But she had remained.

(Continued from "A Finch's Beginnings: A Woman Named Averill and a Man Named Bên - Part the First")

Though he had told her that day that he would not always be around to help her, more often than not, Bên was there. 

(This event occurs directly after the event of the Blood Mother Series and the Post 'A Tentative Home Coming, https://laurelinarchives.org/node/57542)

Syllea had left the inn trembling and crying. Cat followed her, seeming very attentive to the girl's feelings. Syllea did not notice this, though. She wanted to run until the inn was no longer in her sight but got no farther than a few steps past the door; she collapsed into the grass and let out a heart-wrenching scream. Tears poured down her face, her fingers dug into the grass beneath her, and her breathing became rapid and quick as she struggled to get air into her lungs.

I never felt cutting pain on my body without a wound being there, and yet I felt it across my chest, then a stab in my side, and a cut on my leg. The pain ripping through me as if I was the one taking these injuries. I knew Egfor had been hurt. Panic tried to set in, but I stood and regained my calm.