There was no freshness in this morning. The air did not carry the sweetness of growing things, awakening again to the sun. No, it was just barren; barren and dry. A foul layer of dust covered the ground, the buildings, and everything, almost overnight, it seemed. But this was not even the light, and gentle dust the clouded courtyard in front of the Pony in Bree. It was not even that rich brown dust that could be found outside the Old Forest. This was black, and choking, and filled the air with an evil smell.
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Fail-a-Khro
