[maikafanawen]

Dûrvagor kept pace with the rest of the group as they rode towards wherever it was Islist was leading them. Whither that was, he wasn’t sure, nor did he particularly care. Instead he imagined Pernolë flying like a bird, taking Islist’s comment a bit seriously. He chuckled out loud at the thought of his horse trying to build a nest like the avian creatures he had watched earlier.

“For Gondor and the Dunedain we ride,
For honour and glory we will fight,
Till our foe is defeated
And the lands reunited.

In Aragorn, cheif of the Dunedain,
All hope lies.
When he calls the faithful will ride,
So to Gondor we ride, swift and sure.
To Aid Isildur's heir!”, sang Sorlas proudly. Dûrvagor Cormyr knew it also by heart and rode up beside him smiling.

“Catchy little jingle ye’ve got there,” Sorlas raised an eyebrow at the other ranger as he finished his song and adjusted his grip on the reins. “Got a few myself,” Dûrvagor cleared his throat and sang in a strong tenor, though not too loudly,

“Hey ho, Hee ho
Off to the inn will I go!
To get me a drink,
Give the barmaid a wink,
And sit a while to think.

Hey there, hee there!
But what, dear friend, shall I wear?
A gown of satin? A jerkin of brown?
My cuffs turned up? Or upside down?
Or shall I go nude into town?”

“Dûrvagor!” yelled Islist from the front, a slight smile playing on his lips. The ranger ceased his song and bowed his head shamefully, as Sorlas forced a frown.

“I’ll get to the bottom of these chaps,” Dûrvagor whispered to Aravir, one of the rangers here he had only just met. “So help me Eru they’ll go smilin’ to their deaths.” To cover up for his rough mistake, Pernolë’s rider began to hum the tune to the song Sorlas had sung instead of his merry drinking song.