Pondering Paces



Step. Step. Step. Scrape. Step. Step. Step. Scrape.

Her feet continued following their brief pattern. Her face unshrouded by the hood which tended to cover it, as she was in the safety and privacy of her own room. Her gloves lay on the writing desk in the corner, near the candle she had lit only moments before. If one had been witnessing the manner in which she flexed her fingers, they would certainly be able to tell she was glad to be rid of those gloves.

"It will be a long road, after all." Why did his words echo in her head still? Perhaps it was that she did not truly know how she felt about going back. Perhaps it was that she regretted promising him her aid. Or was she looking forward to an opportunity such as this?
Nay, not the opportunity to be stuck keeping Mister High-Mighty-ness, Davamir alive. But the opportunity to go home. To also do good in the land where she was raised.

Yes, she loved Bree. She loved many of the folk in Bree and did her very best to keep them protected. But Gondor still held her love. Perhaps her mother was even still alive. Would Dru be able to see her without being captured?

She shook her head. Entirely too risky.
A groan escaped her lips as she paused and looked down at her scarred wrists. "If only you could at least hold a pen anymore. I could write out my thoughts and make sense of them.."
She sighed and sat herself roughly on her bed, staring at the wall thoughtfully.