Anarya watched as a sickening mist flooded the forest below them. Anarya clutched her bow till her knuckles turned white. Fear choked the air like the aptmoshphere inside a quarantine.
Rudhchamion stood nearby, holding his bow up, bold and not shaking like she. Anarya felt ashamed. She wished she could be as brave as Rudhchamion, but then a saying came into her mind. Courage is not the absence of fear. It struck her heart. Her mother had told her that. Anarya held the arrow tighter and looked directly into the fog. Feeling stronger she readied herself. Death, if Illuvatar willed it, but she knew one thing, she would die bravely.
As she watched the fog below her, she saw three large steeds being riden by a black figures emerge from the smog, leading a disusting thing, humongous and almost comical. Anarya would have laughed at it in any other situation. She watched as they passed below. She held her breath, Rudhchamion seemed to be doing the same. Suddenly, the last rider stopped right beneath them. Anarya closed her eyes praying that it would leave...
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Snow white! Snow White! O' Lady Clear! O' Queen Beyond the Western Seas!
O' light to us that wander here amid the world of woven trees!
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