[Envinyatar]

‘Let me help you sit up.’ Orëmir braced Lindir as Tasa helped the injured Elf drink from her water skin. ‘Just enough to wet your mouth . . . don’t take too much at first.’ Orëmir looked at Tasa as she crouched on the other side of Lindir. ‘Help me lay him down.’ He pointed to where he’d dropped his pack. ‘If you’ll bring it to me,’ he nodded, ‘I’ll see if I can redress his wound. It’s still bleeding. Quite a lot, really. That’s why he feels so thirsty.’

Orëmir rolled up one of his blankets and placed it behind Lindir’s head. The Elf’s eyes were open, though they seemed focused more on something beyond the present happenings. Pushing up the now re-bloodied tunic, Orëmir removed the old dressing and laid a new one in its place, binding it securely with some strips of linen.

Once he had finished, he placed his hand lightly against Lindir’s brow and spoke a few words of comfort. ‘Good to have you back, friend.’