Scarburg Meadhall

[Eönwë]

The young woman ran. Dan was surprised. He wondered why she hadn't even waited to introduce herself.
"Wait!" he called, "Don't go!"
But it was too late, she was gone. But Dan was curious. IT seemed to him that she had suffered a bad experience, which made her far more cautious than a normal person would be.

But she seemed a bit lost and bewildered, and Dan, owing to his race's extremely good sense of direction, he knew that he could help her. After a quick moment of indecisiveness, he ran after her. Now, contrary to their looks, the Drughu were excellent sprinters. They might not be as good as the dwarves, but they were similarly built, and had the same strengths. But whereas the dwarves were heavy and slightly cumbersome, the Drúedain were far more agile. And anyway, even the least fit Drûg could run for hours on end. They were tireless. He used his extremely good sense of smell to find out which direction she had gone in, and then ran parallel in the silent way of his race. He overtook her and then waited just beyond a clearing, which she ran straight into. He appeared out of nowhere, right in front of her, and said to the panting woman, "Hello. I am Daghan-turi-Dan of the Drúedain of Drúwaith Iaur, and I have come to help the people of Eodwine's house. Why do you run from me as if I was a savage Dunlending? And why are you so far away from anyone else in this inhospitable country?"