Plinnlim rose as the first ray of sunlight tickled her nose and got ready in no time. She was anxious to reach Imladris as fast as possible, and so was her horse, too. Using the beautiful light of daybreak they got to the Lone-lands and rode on at high speed - not only to get home faster, but also to avoid the orcs and wargs that were known to cross the way sometimes.
They only rested when they reached the Last Bridge - still on the Lone-lands side of it - and Plinnlim enjoyed the beautiful view of the sylvan Trollshaws mountains mirrored in the Mitheithel. She did not want to linger on these dangerous lands for too long though, and thus they rushed forward to get to Thorenhad for a safer camp. The stars were shining when they got there, but luckily they had met no troll on their way.
When Plinnlim awoke the next morning and got out of her tent stretching her muscles, she almost knocked hîr Elrohir down, who was passing at the very moment. They ended up laughing and talking about her travels and Plinnlim told him how surprised she had been to find the Gonhirrim to be very brave and talented hunters. Hîr Elrohir then explained to her that many prejudices regarding the other races where nothing than just that - prejudices; not only concerning Gonhirrim, but also about Periannath and Eboennin. A little she regretted now that she had not used the chance to stay in Bree overnight and to watch its inhabitants a little closer.
They went over to the fire together to share some tea with the others, where she learned that Hîr Ruthlas was planning a hunting trip for the afternoon. He invited Plinnlim to take part. She blushed and was very proud of the attention she got despite her age - not suspecting that they simply wanted to see her abilities and make sure she would be safe travelling on to Imladris on her own. So she agreed to delay her departure to the next day. It did not really matter. The burning red, orange and yellow of the treetops told her that she was at home already.
