I open my eyes.
Around me is a rocky shore and water, rushing away. It surprises me that I am even alive after the fall that I took while battling the Wargs. The odds were against me.
I try to move and every nerve in my body screams in protest. I lie still and try to forget about the pain, glad that I am even able to feel pain. But...if this is how I must go on, then what is the use?
I turn my eyes heavenward, looking at how far down I am. If this is where I am, what is there left for me? What is the point in moving from this very spot?
As if out of nowhere, my mind begins to answer the rhetorical questions. I have friends who think that I am dead. There are men who could benefit from my skill with the blade. Lastly and most definitely not least, there is Arwen.
With a glance to my right, I see Brego. He sinks down and I grasp his mane, pulling myself up onto his back.