Lanbriel ran on in the dark. The only thing that forced her on was her stronger-than-ever will for freedom. At the head of the misshaped line, she saw the one called Fionel. Lanbriel herself was not far behind, and she noticed that as Fionel ran, a hunter passed her a small object. It was too dark to tell what the object was, so Lanbriel ran on pretending not to notice.
She saw all the slaves running around her, all rushing, all tiring themselves out. They were trying to get as far away from that wreched place as possible. Lanbriel knew that soon, many would find themselves too tired, hungry, and weak to keep going. This is why she was running slower than usual. If she ran on instinct, she would be far ahead of the others. But she knew, she knew that soon instinct would be the only thing between life and death.
She just had to keep up this pace. She had to control her freedom-longing legs... She knew she would make it.
[ April 28, 2003: Message edited by: kittiewhirl1677 ]
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The world was young, the mountains green. No stain yet on the moon was seen. No words were laid on stream or stone, When Durin woke and walked alone...
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