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"Doleth!" Lossenfirithion cried out, "DOLETH!" Looking around, he saw his son's sword lying broken on the ground. He began to run frantically around the battlefield, searching, hoping, praying. His eye caught on the figure of his Dolendelothion. He ran to him, shaking him by the shoulders, but his son's blue face looked up, his colourless lips gave no emotion, his shut eyes no hint of life.
As Firith pulled away he saw his hand was wet with blood. Looking down, he saw that his son had been all but ripped in two by the vice like jaws of the spiders. Screaming in anguish, he knelf next to his son's fallen body and lowered his head into his hands, weeping.
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