|
It was dark there-- there was little light to change the bleak gloomyness of the place. Gasping for air, Hanindur pulled his fingers through his haid to get it out of his eyes. "I knew I had a bad feeling about this!" he muttered, looking around. As Arathorn had said, they were safe for now. Leaning backwards to catch his breath, something, or a lack of something drew his attention. He cursed, realizing that the water's push had washed his dagger away. "Well, that's handy," he added to his prevous statement, standing up-- getting to his feet easy enough, though the water dripping off of his soaked clothing gave an added challenge.
On his feet, and having regained his breath, Hanindur looked around some more. The room was large, empty, and quiet, save the breathing of the surviving men and elves. There was no daylight really to be seen-- an evil place it was. He had the feeling that he wasn't going to see daylight again, either. The darkness was foreboding in feel, and he didn't like it in the least.
A quick count of the others revealed what he had been certain of-- Eldin was also gone. Yet another that will be mourned, he thought, bowing his head a moment.
But there was no time to worry over the loss of yet another member. There was still the ever present danger to worry over, even if they seemed safe at the moment.
|