Calimir swung down off his horse. He was tired. Two weeks out of Rivendell, and he had ridden hard. He should arrive in Bree within a week, and from there... who knew?
Despite his tiredness the Elf was content. He'd ridden fast, yes, but his senses were alert, he saw the birds, smelled the air, drank from streams as he passed. Working quickly he set up a campsite, and taking a small brush from his saddlebags he cleaned the mud off his horse's legs.
When he finished with his work, Calimir settled down beside his small fire. The sun had just gone down and the western sky was still faintly pink above the hills, but Calimir faced east. As he sat he sang softly to himself.
The seasons fall like silver swords
the years rush ever onward
and soon I sail, to leave the world
the lands where I have wandered
O Elbereth, the queen, who dwells
across the western sea
spare me yet a little time
Ere white ships come for me...
Humming still softly under his breath, Calimir settled down beside his fire, sleeping with open eyes, lest danger stir in the night.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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