Morning dawned and Gamplagor soared in on golden wing like a ray of sunshine. The cry of the eagle had stirred Glimonasse from her slumber. Sitting up, she smiled to the eagle, her companion for for several years. Glimonasse held out her arm and the regal bird hopped onto the protected forearm.
No words were needed. Her intent was clear. Glimonasse's purpose was Gamplagor's. With a shrieking cry, Gamplagor rose into the air and flew towards Nan Wathren. Soaring in the vault of the sky, Gamplagor's wings spread their splendor. The joy of flight was purpose unto itself, but this time there was an urgency. She could feel it rushing through her body in every beat of her heart. The wind brushed over her feathers, the morning sun pierced the fog of morning, arching over the hills and into the valleys of the North Downs. From her place, high overhead, Gamplagor could see the smallest mouse and the tallest mountain in all of Middle-Earth, but her eyes were focused on the maze of rock in Nan Wathren.
The dark corruption of the reaching shadow was there. Those that looked like men and elves, darkened in spirit and body, roamed through the region. Terrible fires, horrible filth, and a rock unlike the others, worked by foul and dark hands.
Turning on a wing, she saw the arrow flying towards her. She had little time to avoid the sting of the arrowhead, either drop and try and recover, or continue into the turn. That moment of indecision, the battle of instinct and will, it cost her.
In Kingsfell, Glimonasse was running towards the crags of Nan Wathren before Gamplagor even hit the ground. Her heart pounded in pain and anguish. She could still feel Gamplagor within her, still feel the purpose they shared. Then she realized that Glanind was running beside her.
The stallion of golden-morning sunbeams knew something was wrong only because of Glimonasse's actions. He ran with her, he knew not where. But soon she was swinging into the saddle, fingers clutching at his main. He ran swift and sure. He too could feel Glimonasse's urgency, her panic, her desperation. The scent of the orcs and wargs nearby did not deter him. No, they instead fueled his flanks, urging him to greater speed.
Gamplagor thankfully still had not gone into Nan Wathren to see what was transpiring there. She fell, plummeting towards the ground like a stone. The pain was intense, poisonous. It burned through her body. She extended one wing, the other having been pierced by the black shaft of the orc archer. She tried to soften her fall, tried to fly closer towards Glimonasse. But the pain made her sight unlike it had ever been. Things were out of focus, the world was falling into darkness.
The purpose. That's what she remembered. Through the pain, there was Glimonasse's will, the bond they shared made them of one mind, one purpose. She cried out. Her words a mere shriek of sound to ears that did not hear.
Glimonasse heard the cry, understood that there was an obelisk, and did not care. She felt her heart being ripped out of her chest. She felt the life of the eagle slipping. She felt the sudden jarring pain of the ground rising up to collide with the eagle's body.
Time moved so slowly for the girl on Glanind's back. She knew the stallion raced like thought to reach the eagle, but it still took nearly ten minutes for Glanind to cross the span of hills that separated them. Even leaping from Glanind's back seemed to take too long for the young ranger-in-training.
Gamplagor's vision was still blurred, her mind wrought with pain. Glimonasse could feel that pain as though it were her own. She pushed it aside, using it only to determine the extend of damage to Gamplagor. Her own vision was blurred with the tears of emotional anguish. She broke the arrow, the arrow coated in filth and poison. She lifted Gamplagor into her arms and cradled her as she lifted herself onto Glanind's back. The horse knew already where to go. The elves of Meluinen would be able to help his herd.
