Estarfin

The sky was predictably darkening by the time the four Elves turned across the rugged land to the walls of the Dourhand port. Yrill dismounted from her horse and made her way through the rocks and undergrowth to assess the gate. She turned in surprise: Estarfin was lurking close beside her. Her own skills had not alerted her to his presence, and she realised she had underestimated him.

“I know not where they are,” insisted Culuninnel, biting back at Estarfin's accusation. “But this cloak means -”

Again the Noldo advanced so that his large horse almost trod on the Captain.

(continued from this...)

Estarfin…

Ceuro took the empty plate and goblet and headed back down from the lookout spot on the ridge. He had endured something of an onslaught from the angry Filignil. She was still on duty, and would be for another hour, and she was not at all amused that she had only just had the day’s happenings explained to her. The Housekeeper-come-Guard was a swift shot with a bow. None would enter Numenstaya without her knowing, and her permission.

She returned nigh midday, to find Estarfin speaking casually with the Dwarven workers about the wall building. He hailed her as she rode past him to the stables. Despite his earlier words, he did not seem particularly at ease.

“Any news, Yrill?”

‘Estarfin…

…meldanya, can you hear me?’