Thrakatburz watched from behind a tree as Amanduial dismounted to help the hobbit who had just appeared and was now wandering around aimlessy, a trickle of blood still dripping from her chin. from a pouch at her waist, Thrakatburz fluidly removed a blow pipe from a pouch hanging at her waist and fitted a dart. It whistled through the air and bit deep into the horse's withers, making it rear and charge away through the trees. As the other elf turned at this commotion, Thrakatburz stepped from behind the tree.
"We meet again, old friend" she said, her voice dripping with irony. "I trust you have considered my proposition. I have present for you which I could not give you earlier." She held out her hand, a piece of charred and blackened wood lay in her palm. "A reminder of your family, and all you have turned you back on; all the pain, all the anger, all the disappointment. All you need now is your hate."
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