A gentle breeze blew thought the trees causing a whistling that only the most sensitive of ears could hear. As the leaves tipped in the wind's gentle caress they changed the tone, playing the song of a mild spring. The leaves of early spring were already bright with life, even though the trees were not in abundance. This would be an unfamiliar location… not only to the village who had followed her and her father on this insane journey, but to the orcs that hunted them.

Long nimble fingers, brushed the wall of the mountain that protected the valley on one side. Craning her neck, she looked up and squinted into the sun, which seemed to be cut in half by the tall mountain ledge.

Not yet mid-day. Yes, this would be a fine place to start the new village, although she knew that the rest of the group would have their misgivings.

Anxiety pooled in her stomach as she thought about the reality of their misgivings. They were elves – their concerns would be voiced calmly and rationally. They were used to the trees – the forest had always provided them protection. The ability to walk amongst the trees had provided them aerial perspective of their prior home, and protection amongst the leaves. This was different – a wide open space, with a smattering of trees here and there. A mountain face provided both protection, and vulnerability depending on what enemy approached and from where. There were exits, however… lake on one side, and an underground pass through the mountain on the other. The final side, the side from which they had come was prime for farming. They could live here, though she was uncertain if they would thrive.

The place that she had decided to set up was close enough to the mountainside that she was positive that their archers would be able to set up far enough away to take out the intruders. As long as it wasn't an army of orcs. They would have to find and make alliances soon.

A small smile twitched at the corners of her pale lips as the marchwarden of 'her' troops and one of her truest friends approached her. He was dressed for war, his cloak flipped around his body and over his shoulder, the only testament to how much he needed water. Soon.

A small whisper to a young elf that had been following her and taking notes. They had stores of water, but she wanted to make sure that would last. The water of the lake had been of much better quality than they had expected, and she hoped that they would be able to utilize the gift that nature had given them.

The marchwarden approached her with vigor, pausing only to move as though he was going to bend down on one knee. He paused half way, lowering his eyes and bowing his head, as he put a fist to his heart – a show of respect for her 'position'. "We have found a mountain pass that does not go under the mountain. Our scouts report that it goes through to the our end, and will deposit us in a forest. Perhaps a good place to set up camp."

She nodded a bit, hazel eyes breaking the eye contact that they had held for the briefest of moments. "We will set up camp here," she stated, authoritatively. "There is water, and the rockface will provide at least minimal protection until we can build up our stores and spread out."

The marchwarden blinked, his beautiful brown eyes flashing the silver that they turned when he lead men in combat. Not used to his suggestions being ignored, he drew up to stand at attention. "I must protest. We belong in the trees."

She nodded once. An acquiescence of sorts. "We do. And you are correct, we belong there. So that is the first place the orcs will look. We cannot be predictable. We must stay one step ahead. "

A rustle of the grass stopped their conversation, as the young runner came back with a tankard of water.

The marchwarden knew better than to continue the conversation and nodded curtly. "As you say." A deep breath. "I shall tell the men."

"Haldir," she stated, her tone both commanding of his attention and pleading for him to listen.

He had turned partway away from her already, but leaned his head back slightly as he drew himself to his full height again. No words left his lips.

"Drink something," she said, taking the tankard from the runner. With a quick tilt of her head, she dismissed the runner. Waiting for him to depart, she handed it over to Haldir. "Drink this. You are overheated and you are not feeling like yourself."

She was not incorrect in her assessment. He warred with himself to continue to state his case, or take the water with gratitude. He opted to reach back out for the water. After draining the tankard, he handed it back. "The men will be displeased," he stated tactfully.

Another nod. "I know. " She considered her words thoughtfully. "I have a plan for that area, for which I will need your assistance. But, first we need shelter and workshops. We'll need food, water, and essentials." She softened her features; a silent plea for him to work with her on this. Her position as a leader was precarious, they both knew. Her father, once a prominent marchwarden in the Lorien army was not aged. He had lead a faction of the elves out of Lothlorien, away from where the orcs had attacked. She was certain that Haldir had followed out of respect for her father, and perhaps an affection for her. Regardless of the reason for his support, she appreciated it. Knowledge, skill, and loyalty like his was hard to come by – harder still to attain in the same person. She was grateful for his support.

"I understand," he said, not fighting her further. Although her self proclaimed proficiency was in healing, he had always been drawn to her leadership qualities. Like her father before her, she often assessed both the micro-issues and the over-arching issues that were faced in a particular situation. "I will tell the men," he said, readjusting his cloak as his body temperature regulated and he felt the calming effects of the water on his body.