[Himaran]

"Aye, we follow Grash. He led us out of the tunnels! Not Bror! Not I! It was him! And we don't need anymore bickering amongst ourselves." Everyone turned, staring at Dwali was sullen eyes. He could not believe it - the company seemed to be collapsing in on itself... and his previous companion was not helping the matter. For all his talk to Morgoroth about alliegence and honor, Bror had only mad the matter more precarious. And Dwali was sick of all of it.

"Don't you see, laddies? If we don't fight together, what chance have we? None!" All the anger was pouring out, an undending river of misery and sorrow. But despite the rage, Dwali wanted nothing more than to cry. How could they all be so complacent and indecisive, so arrogant and proud, so... He was little different; just hours earlier the dwarf would have hardly cared if the elves had fallen prey to the venom of Shelob, or even Grash for that matter. It was as if years of blindness had given way to clear vision, which he desperately wished to share with those around him. But how could they see it too, after barely surviving the living hell of Cirith Ungol. It seemed that only the dwarf who had been the most hostile and angry, the most irrational and confrontational, was able to comprehend the foolishness of their quarrels. Was it he alone that had been moved by the limp form of Dorim being carried from the cave? Darash seemed rational, but what of the others?

The uncomfortable silence was broken by Grash, waving his hands nervously. "Enough! Our personal problems aside, we need to move on. Let's pack up our things and prepared to leave this accursed land." But the issue was not resolved, and hopelessness decended upon the dwarf. This fued will never end.