Calad watched the faeries depart on that dragon that seemed to belong to her. He sat still on the tree branch, looking down. He remembered the incident with another tree, and as he looked at the great height between him and the deadly ground, he grew afraid and froze, only moving so that he could blink.
He noticed the others packing up, speaking of leaving, and mounting their horses once more. It was dark, he was high up, and he did not want to come down. He then finally moved, shuffling over to next to the trunk of the tree, straddling the branch. He grasped on the branch as if he were a witch about to fly off on a broom, staring down at them all, thinking that they looked like they were the size of hobbits from the height. He froze again, allowing some locks of hair to fall down and obstruct his eyes.
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- Ringwraith #5,
Servant of the Eye
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