[Firefoot]

Busy inside of Linduial’s horse’s stall, Léof did not notice anyone entering the stable. He thought he heard a quiet voice, but attributed it to Farahil two stalls down. Even so, he could not quite shake the feeling that something was not quite right… perhaps because the voice didn’t quite sound like Farahil’s, perhaps because the sounds of horses that he was so used to weren’t exactly right, or perhaps it was simply intuition. Whatever it was, after a few minutes Léof was sure he heard something drop and decided he ought to go check and make sure everything was all right.

“I’ll be right back,” he said to Farahil. He glanced up and down the aisle; nothing seemed amiss. You’re just imagining things, he told himself – but he didn’t believe it. He walked slowly down the aisle, checking the horses; and the farther he went, the more stirred up they seemed to be: pricked ears and alert expressions, one or two had ceased eating and poked their head out of the stalls. That’s funny.

Then when he was nearing the end of the aisle, he spotted a knife on the floor. He immediately frowned. Not only was it not safe, but he had no idea as to why anyone would have a knife out here in the stables – much less drop one. He stepped closer to pick it up, then jumped back in surprise when he realized that someone was actually occupying the empty stall nearest the knife. “Hey! What are you doing here, sneaking around the stables?” Léof’s surprised expression turned to a scowl as he contemplated the options. The young man in the stall was scruffy and roguish looking, crouched and hiding there in the stall – and not from Rohan, by the looks of him. Léof glanced over his shoulder quickly, not trusting his back to the stranger – the horse in the stall was none other than Eodwine’s Flithaf, an appealing horse to any thief… His glance also showed that Farahil was coming to find the source of the commotion. “You had best explain yourself.”