The night always transformed the forest; it was like another world within one. Trees tall and green in day turned to shadowy twisted figures, whispering. The flowers became hidden; rocks and natural forms that held beauty in daylight became looming forms, playing evil tricks on the mind. The gloom of the sleeping sun cast an eerie forbidding ambience that drowned the forest.

To be a stranger to the woodland at night would be foolish, when the sight is hindered, and nocturnal creatures of an ominous nature crawl in the dense thicket, lurking, the wood reeks of danger, and peril. For one familiar with the forest, a person who cares for every placing of their foot upon the ground, avoiding small creatures and blooming flowers it is a place of serenity and beauty, but only if there is time to stand still and to listen and gaze at the dark seducing beauty, like a deep purple opal. The night, she is mysterious, she hides beasts within her cloak, releasing them to hunt the wandering when she desires cruel amusement, but she is also glamorous, a pearly beaded necklace of shining stars around her soft neck.

Owls hooted forlornly, small rodents scattering, scurrying on the ground to small dark burrows. Eyes, yellow and bright, slit like a cat or round and bulging are ever watching from the sockets of the creatures they lie in. Other creatures, darker and lighter slithered and wriggled in the undergrowth, but above the canopy, oh it was breathtaking. A never-ending velvet blanket, glittering jewels stitched, irregularly dispersed upon the folds of the fabric, highlighting patches of the sky with an incandescent glow, specks of delicate intricacy, florid, in the pitch black.

Wild things watched Ariena from the impenetrable wiry tangles of nettles and thorns, eyes glued to her in the short moment that she passed, galloping at a flying momentum, wind rushing pass. Her hair whipped wildly around her head, like a seething entanglement of serpents, in the cold wind that swept leaves from the ground, in an aerial river of undergrowth pouring down the desolate path.

The land of trees had come to an end, the path came out from the shady pine and oak, slicing across the clear grassland that lay before her. Spindly saplings lined the edge of the forest, until they disappeared all together; stars shone above her, clearly now, there were no trees here.

Her breath was stolen from her lungs in the sharp wind, to join the air, and the breaths she took were fast and cold. The bitter awareness of fatigue ached in her limbs and back, eyes heavy, willing sleep to come. She had been riding for many hours now, and the glorious sun had shown its first beams from behind the distant misty mountains, she longed for light to come swiftly. Ariena felt Morivanya's heaving body flexing beneath her, muscles strong and pulsing, hooves clattering against rogue pebbles lying on the path. It had been long since they had slowed pace and Morivanya's breath was heavy and tired.

" Dar cell nín celeg lobor, îdh Morivanya. *(stop running my swift horse, rest Morivanya." She whispered in her ear.

At this Morivanya slowed to a halt. Breathing heavily with relief she gave a cheerful whinny of thanks, Ariena patted her neck in response and guided her with weight in the stirrups to shelter behind a large lone rock, jutting from the swaying grass. It sheltered them well from the raging gust that lashed at the bent stems of golden prairie bushes, heather and long threads of seed tipped grasses. As the wind raged it bowed the stretches of grass, leaning then righting, like waves on the shore. As shafts of early light danced from behind the glowering shadow of the mountains it shined across the open land, bathing it in glorious peach light.

Morivanya began to chew vigorously at the stalks protruding from the ground, swishing her tale with contentment. Ariena smiled at her, gazing at the sun's utter radiance. It lasted moments only, and the pink splendor was deposed by the stronger beams of gold. She breathed out and shut her eyes, gloried in the serenity of the utter calm.

Her eyes flicked open again, feeling the pang of hunger arising in her gut. She reached to her pack that lay next to her, fumbling with the golden clasp. She delved in, and groped for the lembas bread, wrapped in green leaves and fibrous cord. She took a bite of the bread, it was heavenly, rich and salted, crust cracking in her jaws. As she swallowed she felt her hunger disappear, and a heavy satisfied fullness of the stomach sent her hunger fleeing, for one bite was enough to fill a grown man's belly. She lay back, mind vacant of deep thought and snoozed, the gentle swish of Morivanya's tale and chomp of her jaws lulling Ariena into a light sleep.

Beneath her shut eyelids her eyes flickered, unconsciously. She breathed slowly and turned over gently, head propped up against the rock face. As the depths of sleep grew deeper her mind entered the world where darkness was light and light was darkness, and nothing made sense but was clear and so full of sense that it was like a conscious mind. Even though her eyes saw nothing but the inner leaf of her lids, there became an illusion of her imagination that she saw many visions before her. Her dreams commenced.

She saw herself sitting, head turned down to the ground, upon a white rock, her sleek pearl gown draped across the ground, her dream revealed nothing of her surroundings nor her face but in her mind she knew it was herself. A figure, walked slowly to her, his face turned to the light. I t was her Father. He walked over to her and stroked her head speaking gently in his voice she used to know so well "nín iell *my daughter*,"he said. She smiled at him and reached out her hand to him but her grasp never reached him, he seemed to fade away. Her heart sank as she watched it, willing for her dream to stop, but it would not. Next flashed that across her mind was the scene of a dark foreboding glen, centered in a forest. Her father stood, in an imprisonment of crooked trees. The perspective was skewed, and their knotted branches seemed to lean in closer to him, menacingly. She wanted to cry out to him and and run to his side, but she could not, it was but a dream. A rustling came from the trees, leaves shaking. He spun around, fear on his face, watching where the sound came from, sword drawn. From the darkness a figure moved from its hiding place. It stood as tall as him, broad shouldered and muscular. Ariena, in her dream only saw it's outline, the detail of it filled in with black, like a silhouette but she knew it was an orc, the orc that had killed her father. It raised a bloodstained blade above it's head and brought it down clashing upon her father's sword, the clang rang through the silence. It's strength was too much for the exhausted elf, who had fought so many for so long already. Buckling at the knees he sank to the ground, staring up with merciful eyes. The orc bellowed, and it's form rose in a black great cloud, raging in a storm around her father. The scene dimmed, and she longed for it to end. The last dream, colder and the worst of the three revealed her Father, dead, lying with a bloodied chest and open eyes.

A loud piercing horn awoke her, startling her, she found herself lying curled up, face wet with tears in a cold sweat. The horn was thunderous and booming, it was the ringing of an orc hunting call to follow a chase and then slaughter, putting dread in her heart. She sprung to her agile feet, bag slung over her shoulder, she pulled the hood of her cloak around her head and swung onto the back of Morivanya who stood, edgy and anxious next to her, stamping her hooves.

Ariena looked around her, sleep had taken her into dreams for too long, it was about 3 hours till midday by the position of the sun in the sky. Upon the horizon she saw black lumbering shapes of orcs upon wargs, they had spotted her, She reached to the small blade at her belt, it was slender but sharp, she wished she had brought with her a larger more lethal weapon, but it did not matter for speed was at her side. " noravorn Morivanya, mín cuils revia mîn na i lanc ned gûr sí *run fast Morivanya, our lives wander at the edge of death*," she whispered, panic rising as the wargs began to chase them. Morivanya began to gallop, racing like she could fly, towards the looming jagged mountains. Ariena looked behind her, gasping with fear as she saw the group of bloodthirsty foul warg riders, approaching at speed. Would she die here, at the hand of orc filth, like her father, 'No' she thought, 'We shall out run death.'