[Amanaduial the archer]

"I would be glad to go with those who will scout ahead, Lieutenant Belegorn, if you so wish," Faerim said respectfully, glancing at his superior curiously although he inclined his head courteously. He saw Erenor look sharply at him and, out of the corner of his eye, he caught her smile. Belegorn also shot him a sharp look, then, after a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Aye; Lady Erenor, if you are to take Faerim with you whilst you go ahead, as you have suggested, and Lady Bethiril can accompany the rearguard, if you deem it would be helpful."

Faerim could not help getting the feeling this swap appeared to be something like a hostage exchange - one of ours for one of theirs - but somehow he did not mind. Erenor had proved intriguing company and whilst he would probably make no difference in the rearguard full of over-eager, under-trained youths, he suspected he could be of some help if he was to go ahead in this smaller group. He bowed his head to Belegorn, accepting the order, but the Lieutenant still seemed distracted, frowning slightly as he regarded Angóre perplexedly - deep in thought over the elf's words, no doubt. At length, he spoke. "You are right, Angóre, about the importance of marking our tracks so as to get out of these blessed mines - you would have no more skill than we in retracing our footsteps?"

"Not so as to hang the fates of half the army on, Lieutenant," Erenor replied quietly. Belegorn nodded, looking troubled as he rubbed his fingers across his stubbly chin thoughtfully. Faerim ran over the possibilities in his mind, then alighted upon one as his thoughts grazed over it. How to mark their tracks back to the other Dunedain...

"Maybe if we were to leave a...man-" Angóre chose the word carefully and with a certain tone of disapproval as he glanced non-too-subtly at Nevhith, who still hovered nearby. "- behind in the tunnels every couple of hundred yards, or at every crossroads - we should easily be able to trace our way back that way, and if there was a problem we could call back to them and they would be able to return the cry to bring us back the right way?"

Erenor, Ereglin and Bethiril nodded thoughtfully, apparently liking the idea, but Belegorn shook his head, worry for his troops presiding. "A practical idea on the outset, Captain, but what if something was to come along the tunnels? They would find our men on their own, and then where would we be? A score of men down and even more lost."

The elves looked disheartened and fell once more to thought, but Faerim silently mulled over his own idea. Maybe it was that he was younger than the rest of them: their childhoods and childhood stories were far behind them - gods, who knew if the elves even had bedtime stories? Looking at Angóre's pale, solemn stone face, he somehow could not imagine those stern features tucked up in a cot, snuggled into a delicately embroidered baby blanket... Feigning a coughing fit so as to cover up his smile as the image sprang through his head, Faerim looked away, but as he did so, he once more caught Erenor's eyes: she appeared to have been watching him all the time, once again with this air of study about her fair features. She raised an eyebrow sardonically at him and Faerim grinned back behind his hand, wrinkling his nose impishly. Angóre cast a disapproving glance at the pair, then fixed his eyes on Erenor. "Lady Erenor, Lady Bethiril, have you any thoughts on the matter?" he asked, like a teacher reprimanding a child caught talking in the back of class.

Faerim jumped in first. "Actually...actually, Captain, I have an idea that may work. What if we were to leave a trail behind us, so to speak, tracing our way back to the camp? Nothing special, mind, just something large enough for us to see and follow back - say a cloth or spare item of clothing tied to the rocks so as to mark our way out of the mines?"

The elves seemed to be mulling over the idea, frowning slightly as they mused what flaws it might have, but Belegorn gave a faint half smile as he nodded slowly at Faerim. "A trail of bread crumbs," he said softly. Caught out in his fairytale source, Faerim blushed and looked away, feeling suddenly even more juvenile. But the elves, it seemed, did not quite understand, and Bethiril jumped in. "Oh no, Lieutenant Belegorn - why, we are short enough of food as it is, that would be a waste of..."

Belegorn shook his head, smiling at the elven emissary. "A turn of phrase, my Lady, a mere turn of phrase." He looked back at Faerim. "Alright, Faerim, we shall try your 'trail of breadcrumbs' through the mines - it is as good an idea as any, I suppose, and I cannot see a problem. Oh, except..." He frowned, sagging slightly as he found the flaw. "Except...if there is some creature in these mines, surely it would help them trace us all the more easily?"

The reply that came was grim. "If something is to find us, Lieutenant, believe me: they shall find us just as easily with or without a trail of petals." Faerim looked across in surprise at Erenor as she used not 'breadcrumbs', but a second reference to the childish tale from which he had had the idea. Caught out...

Belegorn nodded, pursing his lips but in agreement. "Let us hope not, my Lady, let us hope now." Looking around the small group of elves, plus, as always, Faerim, the man's expression resolved and he gave a deep sigh of satisfaction, before murmering a few words and striding away to the rest of the soldiers, holding himself with a bearing strong and tall as he went to address them. As the elves fell to talking among themselves about how to conduct the scouting party, Faerim continued to watch Belegorn, his head on one side like a sparrow having seen something unexpected in a murky lake: maybe not all the superiors in the army were quite so ready as Hirvegil had been to threaten him - maybe Belegorn was that glimmer beneath the pondweed. Smiling to himself at the thought, Faerim turned back to his new companions to hear their plans about the scouting party.