[VanimaEdhel]

Khôrbar remained silent and expressionless amidst the mourning that took place around him. He had lost too many companions, brave, bold, and noble, to similar fates to let this trouble him at the moment. He knew that they must move on. Shelob had fled, but it would not be long before she came back, refreshed and prepared for battle. Khôrbar came and stood behind Soronûmë, awkwardly putting his hand on the shoulder that was still heaving with sobs.

"We must move on," Khôrbar said quietly, "You know we cannot remain. It is for us to decide whether we pursue and strike her down in this, the hour of her pain, or whether we retreat."

Khôrbar flinched, hoping that the answer and reason would not be what he feared. If they went on, revenge should be a reason, but not he only one. The desire to avenge the death of a friend or loved one clouded people's judgement. He had seen only too many times what blind, thoughtless fury did. While it gave unbelievable strength, most were too hysterical to use it correctly.

"I," said Khôrbar, hoping that he would not regret the vote he was about to cast, "Say that we should press on. If we do so, however, it must be now. We can waste no time allowing Shelob to gain back her strength. Either we move on or we leave immediately. We may mourn the dead when we, too, are safe. It is no use looking to find their fate as well."

Khôrbar looked at the remaining company, silently hoping that they would press on, but willing to comply with whatever agreement was made.