Rustling noise.

Ráolor, walking at the rear, turns around.

"What was that?"

Vorongwe and Annunghil approach. Turumor glances back.

The sculptor grabs his warhammer.

"We are being watched."

Annunghil listens closely, touching the hilt of his sword.

Vorongwë glances around, ready to engage any sudden attackers.

But the noise has stopped.

Slowly, the four elves move together, eyeing the surrounding, back to back.