|
Falco
Falco followed the Lady Wynflaed's eyes to Saeryn, whose eyes were not exactly dry.
"This is serious, then. Léof sounded more hopeful, leastways about King Elessar's healing ability. What manner of illness has he got?"
Not even Falco had interest in second breakfast with his friend's illness unknown. Maybe he would have to hie himself to Minas Tirith. His heart sank. Wanderlust or no wanderlust, he had expected to end his journey at Scarburg. Minas Tirith was five days to a week away.
|