Two stood together at the north gate of Bree on a cold rainy winter morning.  As she watches the ranger preparing his horse to travel, Emmawynn finds her mind flooded with questions.  This was the path fate had set for her, of this she was certain. Yet so much has changed since she left Rohan, and she wonders if perhaps she should be re-evaluating. Yet the feeling does not last long.  The primary reason for the journey has not changed.

It was a cruel night – dark and cold, empty of emotion yet corrupted, and it stabbed Nenusidh’s warm heart like a knife. The land was giving the ranger a message – a rather bitter message at that, that there cannot be mercy. The moon was neither bold nor strong enough to best the cruel skies, and the stars were too few and much covered. The land was covered in darkness, yet despite so, there was a fragment of light within the ranger.

A cold wind moaned its deep throated call as it caressed the snow-dusted deserted streets of frozen Dale. Occasionally, a few stray snowflakes drifted down to join their predecessors which littered the floor already, although the deserted night-stricken streets were void of anyone to witness their lonely passing. Well…almost void! A single man strode through the darkness, his black cloak billowing like a cumulonimbus cloud behind him, swirling in the strong wind.

"The path is lost!" 

"Turn back now!"

Eofeole cried out to his Dwarf companion, they were in the midst of a storm high on the pass of Caradhras. Cold and shaking were their very bodies, snow pouring down from the clouded skies. They could hardly see the path before themselves in the blizzard and were more lost than usual. The Dwarf could have gone on, but Eofeole would not go any further and had decided to turn back, with or without the Dwarf.