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Hearing Elrohir's speech lifted Anga's spirits beyond the glum that had settled on all, a premonition not easily rid of. But, as he had said, it was not the time nor place for such behavior. He felt a little ashamed of himself and hoped he would be worthy of forgiveness.
Continueing to walk, Anga thought things through. He had to make some connection with another of the party, or he would be rather lonely. Of course, he had always been a loner, hadn't he? No, Anga thought viciously, don't think those things! But the evil personification of his doubts did not relent. You are nothing, it continued, nothing but a worthless lump of flesh. Even the gift of immortality is wasted on such as you. Why do you not cease to exist? It would be so much simpler. The voice droned on, and for once in his life, Angakemion had no-one to turn to.
With sweat breaking on his brow, he tried to plod ahead. Gazing at the passing scenery stilled his thoughts. The wind in the trees, blowing gently. The same cool zephyr passing through their company, sweetly refreshing them.
The promise of a fight also helped him. He mentally went through a half-dozen exercises he would practise tonight. Sharpening his skills, every movement at a time. He hoped that by the time they reached orcs, he would be more than ready to face them.
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