*Evil Yzma voice and hands thrown up*

"Hahahaha! It's update time!"

This one is a little longer but I couldn't find a good place to stop before the end of this chapter! .

…but how are you enjoying it? I hate to be one of those attention seeking authors but I do feel a bit of a boost when I read the good comments...not gonna lie to you.

But without further ado...enjoy!

"Pull the lever, Kronk!"

If there was one certain thing it was the Elinor was so damned tired of all of the rain. It seemed that in the southern regions the rain could go on for days. And the air was so thick that at times she thought she couldn't breathe.

After they made it to Northpoint and traded their mounts for fresh ones, lighting a candle for Ramund, they continued on their trek.

They managed to down the young drake but it's claws had sliced into an artery in his leg. The young man bled out in the wastes and they took his body to bury, slung over Hadvar's horse. It wouldn't do to leave him to the elements. He had gotten in some good hits in the beast and had an honorable death, and could walk proudly in the timeless halls. They left the beast's carcass in the snow, several teeth taken and stowed in their packs.

When they had travelled a week or so south of the border town, they started to see the first splashes of color of the warmer regions. They could see the silhouette of the lonely mountain far in the distance, shrouded is misty clouds.

As children of Forodwaith, it was a novelty for the others to see so much color. Elinor vaguely remembered the plush green grass and fragrant flowers. Rhosyn just carried on as usual as he had travelled from the Blue Mountains some fifty or so years ago. But Elinor was slightly amused with the others as they preferred to walk, running their fingers over everything.

Grass. Flower petals. Tree bark. Loose warm dirt. Leaves. Insects. It was different from what theirs was like in the northern regions.

Then the rain started….

Elinor didn't know how they stood it, these southerners. They rarely had rain and when the clouds deigned to give them a little drizzle, it was frozen flurries. She was positively soggy and the next town that seemed decent, she was stopping for a rest and a change of clothes. Even as the weather was comfortable by her standards, the heavy furs were getting unbearable.

They had also come across some orcs, the people of the border town warning of their kind. While certainly intimidating, they were just as susceptible to injury as everything else. Their guttural language was coarse on her ears and they were warned that these creatures travelled in packs. Best to be avoided when possible.

They spent their nights in the trees, backs propped against the trunk and their legs strapped to limbs to keep them from falling after an encounter with a vile little serpent one day. Rhosyn had laughed at them all and informed them that snakes were cold blooded creatures thus ill suited to the northern regions as they were much smaller than dragons.

But what she really couldn't stand was all of the bloody rain.

Elinor felt smothered in her own skin, the furs heavy and pressing on her, making her skin feel puckered. Her shoulder and arm had small tears around the scarring...she could feel it with every trot her pony made. She had to grip her bow firmly to keep her fingers from scratching and they all needed a hot bath and a bed. Dea had almost nodded off and fallen from her pony several times before Agatha pulled her over to sit in front of her on her horse. The flaxen haired warrior was exhausted herself and that in turn made her an irritable companion.

It was well past nightfall when they made it to a small town, the gates firmly shut for the night with watchmen posted on scaffolds. Elinor sighed and dismounted, Hadvar following suit.

Dea and Rhosyn sat perched on their ponies and held the reins of their mounts as they trudged up the muddy road to approach the gates. She felt the rain pelting down on her in big fat drops, could hear the hooves of Agatha's horse loping towards them in the sucky earth and felt a swell of frustration. She might have beat on the small passage door a little too harshly but at this moment, she found she no longer cared.

Hadvar grumbled something and placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her before a narrow piece of wood slid aside. A face peeked at them through the hole...an old grumpy face of an old man as he took them all in. Elinor saw his eyes pass over them all, not giving her a second thought, before settling on Hadvar.

"What's your business at this hour, ser?", he huffed impatiently, lifting his lantern in an attempt to get a better look at them.

"We need lodging", Hadvar grumbled, "Do you've an inn?"

Those old eyes narrowed for a moment before passing over them all once more.

"We don't open gates to strangers after dark….but can't have children sleeping in the rain….but you mind that dwarf don't start no trouble!", a sharp finger pointed at Rhosyn.

Elinor and Dea stiffened at that. She felt her temper start to rise but quickly deflated and let it pass when the heavy wooden door swung open to one side. They walked their horses up the lane, wooden planks having been laid to offer more stability. She took in the weathered huts and threadbare clothes of the few people milling about as they made their way to the inn. They tethered their horses to the posts out front, the placard hanging above the rough wooden door read, 'The Bannered Mare'. When they entered Elinor saw that while indeed very simplistic, it was homely and warm.

There were long tables with benches and chairs, food and drink scattered about as patrons conversed. The air lightly perfumed with stale beer and body odor, the establishment peppered with some unwashed townsmen. The light chatter that had been seemed to die down a bit as they entered before returning to normal. Elinor strode to the innkeeper, a middling woman in a simple brown frock who eyed them all before taking in Elinor's posture. She seemed to be a bit confused as she studied them before chuckling to herself.

She kept on wiping out a tankard, with a clean cloth Elinor observed, as she cackled.

"Tha ol' arse thought ye children, eh? Nary a soul for months. Now we've guests from afar dropping like rain in springtime", she spoke with a rough voice, thick with amusement, "You lot don't look like my usual customers".

Elinor stood tall and stepped forward, her overall demeanor drawing the woman's gaze to her.

"That stand in the way of us doing business?"

"Not at all! You weary, traveler? What 'an I get for ye?"

"A couple of rooms. Some hot food and drink. A warm bath and feed for our horses. How much?", Elinor questioned, chin raised and arms crossed.

"Well, l'ttle mistress, for you lot", the greyed woman started, not unkindly, "That'll run 'bout fi'teen gold but dinner done been made and me help went home for the e'ening so ten'll be fine".

Her face indecipherable, the rest of the company standing silently behind her, Elinor studied the woman long enough that the woman started to fidget. Normal inn fees were at least ten gold per guest so getting a room for three gold apiece let her know that either the room was subpar or that they were in dire need of clientele. What she could see of the inn was clean and well maintained so she was leaning towards the latter. Elinor was exhausted and she knew the others were as well and considered this before digging in her pack for one of her coin purses. She pulled out a smaller pouch and emptied thirty gold pieces into her hand.

She glanced up over the counter to see the woman's eyes wide in shock, mouth gaping and hand movements frozen.

"Your name?", Elinor inquired, chin still raised.

The woman still stared dumbly at her until Agatha cleared her throat and that seemed to snap the woman from her stupor.

"Uh, beg pardon, mistress", came her stammered reply, "Jacosta's m' name".

Elinor acknowledged her with a dip of her chin before placing the gold up onto the worn counter. Jacosta reached for it but stilled when Elinor stopped her.

She arched a brow pointedly at the innkeep, "Hot food and a hot bath".

Jacosta nodded and replied, "Aye, mistress", before snapping her fingers at a sleepy child that was sitting on a stool behind the bar.

"Oi! Sharp now! We've guests!"

Elinor eyed her for a moment before removing her hand and the woman quietly pocketed the coin. Hadvar and Rhosyn went to stable their mounts and grab their packs.

They were shown to a long table near the hearth, the warmth seeping into the furs that Elinor was sure was fused to their skin by now. Jacosta brought them all tankards of mead, Agatha all but gulping hers down in one go and raising it for another. They were served steaming bowls of stew with stale bread that the innkeeper apologized for, informing her that wooden tubs were being taken upstairs and water boiled for baths.

"What's all this, then? Dwarves and foreigners?", a voice slurred from behind her, "Easy to the eyes but still".

Elinor turned to see a few of the patrons had stepped towards them and felt her irritation growing. A shoddy looking man spattered with filth was leering at her with a dirty crooked smile that gave her the shivers. The innkeeper tried to shout them off but went ignored.

"You lot in need o' company?"

Agatha reclined back in her chair and watched with a bemused expression, snorting into her tankard as Elinor turned back to her own drink.

"We've our own company to keep".

He apparently didn't like her response because the next thing she knew she was whirled around in her seat and snatched to her feet to look up at a grimey sneer. Her tired legs strained as she stood on the tips of her toes to keep her balance so as to not strain her arm.

"You think ye'selves above us, eh?", his rancid breath wafted in her face before he shook her roughly by her arm, "Answer me, ye ginger whore!"

She heard the sharp scrapes of chairs behind her but she blindly waved a hand, halting Agatha and Dea. Elinor straightened her legs so that her feet were flat on the wooden floor instead of on her toes and tipped her chin back to meet his eyes head on.

"I'll tell you again, polite like. No", Elinor said evenly, "And you'll respond, just as politely, before releasing me and stepping back from my person else I make you choke to death on three pounds of steel".

The man looked confused for a moment, uncertain as how to deal with her seeing as she wasn't cowed, before hunkering down.

"Is that supposed to be a threat? You're not the only one wit' weapons".

She scoffed up into his grungy face.

"Any soft armed craven can hang a blade from his belt, prance about feignin' danger. But my sword's a promise", she spoke evenly, "If I reach for it, someone's head'll roll".

The drunk bristled at that, his grip tightening on her arm before a heavy hand clapped on his own shoulder and jostled him enough to loosen his hard grip. Thick fingers dug menacingly into his flesh causing him to wince and throw a dread filled glance behind him. He found a furious Hadvar and Rhosyn, brows pulled low in anger, mouths tight and bags discarded onto the floor.

The drunk also noticed his fellow lushes were nowhere to be seen either.

"I could also have my comrades here take you outside and open your lid, turn you upside down, and tap the shite outta you. Now", she continued evenly, "You wanna be polite…..or no?"

He paled and released her so fast one would've thought she was made of molten metal. He stepped away from her stammering.

"S-sorry"

Rhosyn uncrossed his arms quickly to reach up and slap the back of the drunk's neck before barking, "Properly, you gobshite!"

He immediately nodded and gave a clumsy bow, "My apologies, m' lady", before scuttling away and out of the inn.

Elinor watched him flee before settling back in her chair, the others following suit.

They all gratefully ate their fare and were shown to their rooms up a short flight of shoddy stairs. Their host apologized that she didn't have multiple rooms ready but she had a great room with four beds. She had the tubs set up and in short order they all had bathed, adding more hot water from the kettles left by the hearth in the room.

The furs they had all peeled off were sent off for the innkeeper to dispose of as they were no longer needed. It was in reality a handsome room, it was sizable but not too big. Faded tapestry panels hung and thick curtains bracketed the windows with the furniture rustic and dark. A couple of padded chairs were in front of the fire and by the time they had all scrubbed the grime of the journey off of their flesh, Hadvar took up post in one of them.

Elinor placed her beads and ear cuffs into a small pouch and collapsed into one of the beds, her hair loose on the pillow. She missed her father...greatly. But she somehow felt lighter for this trip...satisfaction that the pull she had been feeling was guiding her in the right direction.

This direction.

She heaved a sigh and fell into an exhausted sleep, hoping the next months travel would be easier if not drier.

It had taken them a little over a month but they had edged around the northernmost area of the vast forest of the Greenwood and made it to the great road. Jacosta had warned them to steer clear of entering the area known now as Mirkwood, stating there were a number of stories involving travelers who never returned.

Elinor could sense a foul presence lingering in the wood, one that left her on edge and she refused to stop anywhere near the cursed place. She could smell the decay in the air. The rest of the company wholly agreed and they pressed on and now they would reach the Blue Mountains in almost two months time. And that was being generous with their time if the map they had was anything to go by.

It was a comfortable day with a cool breeze, the rocking gait of her pony almost enough to lull her to sleep. She was happy to be back in her usual clothes, her gambeson over a tunic and breeches comforting to her. The wide leather belt actually helped with back support on the long rides throughout the days. Bow and quiver were strapped to her back and her short sword hung from her waist with a small dragon bone dagger.

Dea and Agatha were similarly dressed with leather cuirasses over ebon chain mail shirts with breeches and leather boots. The mail reached their elbows, exposing blue cuffed shirts. Both of them had scouted ahead, weapons at the ready.

Rhosyn rode next to her and Hadvar trailed after them, wary of any dangers. Both of them wore similar armors as well, hardened leather brigantines with ebony plating over grey woolen gambesons. Hadvar rested his battle axe on his lap, lips firmly pressed together as his eyes roved his surroundings.

She and Rhosyn had been discussing the king for the past hour or so, Elinor trying to get a point of reference for his disposition. It seemed promising if the king could keep a level head. He seemed deeply devoted to his kind and family but also harbored a disgust, bordering on contempt, for the other races.

"Do you think his majesty too hot headed to be king? Your honest thoughts, please"

Rhosyn clicked his teeth, "Depends on the kind of king you had in mind. Want one who'll send emissaries, move figurines about a map, calculate the most beneficial option….then aye, he's a bit too hot headed".

Elinor's brows furrowed and a frown pulled on her lips.

"But", he added, drawing her attention back to him, "You want a strong ruler, the kind who'll drown his enemies in blood to protect his own or sooner jump into a fire than surrender….that's Thorin. He just needs the right people about him".

Elinor blinked and remained silent, the wind caressed them and her hair brushed against her skin as she thought.

They continued up a slope on a hill when they heard Dea call to them from further along. The young dam was standing atop the hill on the road, waving her arm at them.

"Mistress!"

She dug her heels into her pony to urge it forward and when they topped the hill she saw the ruins of a little hut to the left of the road. The roof was caved in and the walls were in shambles, the only thing left standing really was the cobbled stone hearth.

What was interesting was the interior, Agatha slowly walked about and toed at the wreckage that had been cleared recently. Debris moved to the far side and a small fire had been lit recently.

Elinor dismounted, unslinging her bow as she knelt by the burnt wood and kindling. Her hand hovered for a moment before she stood quickly, pulling an arrow from her belt quiver to notch it. Everyone slowly started to investigate the area, looking around the ruined house and surrounding brush.

"It's fresh. Someone camped here overnight, wood's faintly warm", she observed as she examined the ground, "Several someone's by these tracks….too many different shoes...and someone with large...feet? But they're not very big...the impressions aren't deep".

Everyone had been searching for a few minutes when Rhosyn called her.

"Lass!"

He stood a few yards away from the hut in the woods, looking down into the brush. When she made it over, she spied the remains of a skeleton, tattered pieces of clothing faded and hanging from the bones with a pitchfork near. Mostly intact and sun bleached, she noticed. Picked clean by scavengers and insects the rest left to the earth.

Wide pelvic bone. Small jaw. All of the adult teeth. Female. Human. Maybe past her thirtieth year. There was a cracked portion of the skull.

Head wound.

Pitchforks are dangerous weapons in close quarters so whatever killed her had to have either snuck up on her or was large in size.

This happened maybe a year past.

Elinor shook her head dismissively, "This is old", and everyone went back to surveying the terrain.

She studied the myriad of tracks and felt they seemed familiar and her face scrunched in thought. A thought popped into her head and she suddenly looked down to her own foot and glanced at Hadvar and Agatha's. She spied a clear impression of a boot and wandered over to press her foot down next to it before pulling it back. A little bigger than her own. She blinked a few times and felt a swell of worry. Either this was a gaggle of roving human youths or…

They were dwarves!

Emerald orbs swung to the older dwarrow in alarm, "Rhosyn!"

"Aye, lass, I see it", he agreed as the rest wandered back over.

Agatha and Hadvar came to stand by her, the former grunting at the tracks.

"Don't know why we didn't recognize them before", she speculated.

Hadvar's scowl deepened in thought, thick auburn brows furrowed, "Didn't think dwarves roamed about. Don't they normally tend to entrench in their settlements?"

"Aye"

"What they doin, ye think?", Dea questioned, as confused as the rest of them.

The area wasn't populated and seemed abandoned for a long time, in somewhat open terrain so the likelihood of dwarves living in the area seemed highly unlikely. She glanced at the footprints again, the ones around the edge of the house.

Impressions are deep. Far apart. They were running. But why?

Elinor just shrugged in bewilderment, "I have no id-"

Suddenly, a great howl pierced the air. It sounded to be from the area they had just passed, the Trollshaws. Elinor heard the thundering of a number of great animals running in the distance.

Everyone glanced at each other with wide eyes for the barest of seconds before breaking apart to sprint to their mounts.

Hadvar and Agatha had gained some distance ahead of Elinor and the others, their horses longer in leg. Agatha had pulled her shield from her back and held it tightly as her horse galloped at a breakneck pace.

They had circled back to the Trollshaws and saw a person far in the distance on a sled, zigzagging in between the large formations stone that peppered the range. The subject was closely followed by a large party of orcs on wargs but was keeping himself contained to that area as he fled.

Elinor had followed Hadvar and Agatha as they broke away to head in that direction when she saw something out of the corner of her eye to the right. She spied several figures dashing between the rocks away from the now apparent diversion before they remained behind one rock.

A scout had wandered closer, its warg scenting the air and a few moments passed as Elinor waited with bated breath. Her heart thundered in her chest and in a flash the warg jerked and slipped down the other side of the rock out of her view. A loud guttural cry could be heard as well as a fair amount of grunted and muted thumps before a final howl was let loose.

It drew the attention of the rest of the pack, all of them redirecting and heading towards what Elinor now heavily suspected were the evasive dwarves. Elinor had just dug her heels into her pony's flanks when Agatha and Hadvar flew past her. Dea and Rhosyn raced to catch up to her and the orc pack had at least a half of a league on them.

Elinor prayed to Mahal that these dwarves could hold their own and pulled several arrows to hold in her draw hand.

"Are they dwarves, mi'lady?!", Dea shouted, strands of ashen that had escaped her braids whipped wildly in the wind.

"Aye!"

The orc packed converged on a single large stone formation that protruded from the earth with a few smaller ones about. They circled it menacingly, a few venturing forward only to be quickly cut down, presumably by the dwarves she couldn't see. As they neared, Agatha and Hadvar smoothly dismounted to finish running the small distance. Elinor kept several paces back after sliding off her pony to the ground as Rhosyn and Dea joined the others.

She heard a low growl to her left and turned her torso, immediately firing an arrow as she kept her feet steadily moving forward. The head of the arrow embedded into an orc's skull before it dropped to the ground. Hadvar immediately started swinging his axe at the creatures, cleaving limbs from bodies. Elinor kept drawing and firing arrows at the orcs and wargs stalking the perimeter as Dea and Rhosyn tackled foes together. There were several orcs that were closer to the dwarves and Agatha came blasting through, her shield held strong as she plowed into orcs.

As Elinor circled around, she spied a raven haired dwarrow standing at the base of the rock with several others by his side. He was calling out to two others that were further away from their group, a golden haired dwarrow and a raven haired archer with a bow. Both of them seemed barely of age and clearly younger than the other dwarves. They were all brandishing various weapons and backing together to ready themselves for a fight. Another younger dwarrow even held aloft a slingshot.

The clang of weapons was ringing in her ears as she steadily drew her bowstring back to dispatch more enemies. Her arm and shoulder were on fire, the skin already dry and irritated….she could actually feel her flesh tearing.

Agatha had engaged an orc after cutting another down, its black blood seeping into the earth. She smashed her shield into it, making him stagger before embedding her war axe into its neck.

Dea and Rhosyn were circling around to take on an orc mounted on a vicious warg, the older dwarrow charging in shouting.

"Khazad abod amuriz!", he bellowed as he swung his heavy axe at the beasts throat, Dea darting in after it snapped its maw at her to cut at its leg.

Elinor could see the other dwarrows snapping to attention out of the corner of her eye but didn't dare turn their way.

Suddenly she heard the distinct high pitched shriek of a projectile splitting air and turned to snatch an arrow from the air and notch it before she fired it back at an orc that was stalking around Hadvar. It shrieked as blackish blood oozed from its mouth before it collapsed.

There were more than a few shocked expressions at that, the other group anxiously gripping one another as they witnessed the battle around them. Any orcs that dared to come too close were quickly brought down by Elinor's arrows.

The blonde dwarrow from the other group, slowed his movements as he retreated to watch Rhosyn and Dea fell a warg and it's foul rider.

"Fili! Kili! To me!", the raven haired dwarrow roared and Elinor spared him a moment's glance. Only then did she see a large orc advancing on him from his blind side, the creature trying to creep up behind him, sword raised to strike.

Elinor cried out to get its attention, pulling her arm back almost as far as she could, the fletching caressing her cheek. The regal looking dwarrow whirled back around to face her, heavy brows pulled into a glare only for his eyes to widen as she loosed her arrow. It sped over the distance, whistling narrowly by the dwarrow to pierce the orcs chest and knocking it back off its feet. It fell onto the ground with a heavy thud and the dwarrow looked upon it a moment before turning back to stare at her in amazement.

She turned next and put down a few orcs that were advancing over a hill with various arrows through eyes or throats. Agatha and Hadvar were forcing them back, axes swinging or bashing while Dea and Rhosyn were attacking foes together.

She could hear the scraping clamor of metal on stone behind her and whipped towards the noise, her eyes immediately lifting to spot two orcs on top of the massive rock. They held aloft orcish hornbows, jagged steel tipped arrows aimed at the two dwarrow still furthest from the group.

Quick as a flash, Elinor directed her next arrow to the orc that was drawing his arm back. Once more she pulled her arm back as far as it would go before she let the arrow fly. It whistled shrilly as it cut the air and in but a second, it was lodged in the orc's neck to protrude from the back of his skull. As it fell limply back off the stone, it's fellow archer had but a moment of surprise before another of her arrows plunged through his eye.

Why would the archers target those two instead of Agatha and the others? They were clearly doing the most damage….unless…

As her eyes swung to the younger two dwarrow, who were quickly running back to their comrades, before swiveling to the older raven haired dwarf.

They were targeting them specifically. But...why?

Even across the distance, Elinor could see the deep blue of his eyes fringed in sooty lashes and she felt her gut clench oddly. The blood seemed to pound through her heart in a heavy rhythm as she stared across the distance. His eyes were intent upon her and set under dark heavy brows that were furrowed. She saw his group crouching down behind some smallest boulders protruding from the earth, one large bald dwarrow pulling him back as he'd stepped forward a few paces.

Towards her.

He looked almost….astonished….the look quickly morphed into wide eyed alarm as his gaze slid over her shoulder before letting out a panicked shout.

"Look out!"

An orc suddenly barreled into her and pain bloomed in her shoulder as they tumbled to the ground, the vile creature hissing at her as they rolled over her bow. She felt her bowstring snap under them and she mentally cursed the damned foul creature. They both sprung up from the dirt and she quickly drew her shortsword, lips curled with disgust as it's hunched form started to slowly circle her. She started moving, side stepping to keep it in front of her and emerald eyes hard. The orcs face was tight with spiteful hatred, venomous little eyes trained on her as it flashed a barbed sword and his jagged teeth.

Elinor watched the pallid form and it's muscles stiffened in preparation before he lunged at her, sword aimed for her neck. She ducked over to the left and when he slashed downwards towards her again she easily stepped back, dodging his swing once more.

She heard a horn sound in the distance, accompanied by the sound of thundering hooves but she didn't dare take her eyes off her adversary.

They danced around a bit, exchanging blows back and forth, Elinor skirting about him and evading his efforts. Before long, her sword made contact with the creature's body, slashing down his shoulder and torso.

She felt the hot spatter of blood on her as the orc growled at her, snarling as he started his slow descent to the ground.

She was now panting, her heart thundering as she quickly looked around to check on her friends.

Agatha and Hadvar had gore splattered all over, the orcs black blood on their faces lending them both a savage air. Rhosyn was striding towards her and not in much better shape, Dea trailing after him in the same condition but both unscathed. She stopped to wipe her axes on a wargs coarse fur before hanging them from her belt, blood dusting her face and clothes.

Elinor felt the knot of tension loosen a bit as she saw they were unharmed and turned to check on the dwarven party only to come up short.

She blinked in shock, her mouth falling open for a moment.

They were gone!

She had just made ready to head in that direction when she finally saw the figures on horseback. The elegant armor of exceptional craftsmanship. The banners that were held proudly. The curious faces.

Elves.

Elinor was befuddled for a moment when she remembered that this area was near Rivendell.

Agatha and Hadvar relaxed their arms but kept their weapons in hand while Rhosyn edged closer to her.

"Az-Elinori", he whispered and she came out of her stupor, composing herself.

Elinor sheathed her weapon, the others following suit, before propping her right hand on the pommel. Her arm had a dull throbbing sensation that she knew would be agony when her adrenaline wore off. She took everything that she was feeling, the pain and exhaustion, the ebbing worry over her friends, and the swelling worry over the vanished dwarves...and shoved it all deep down for another time and gave a formal bow, leaning from her waist.

"My friends, I thank you greatly for your assistance!", Elinor exclaimed cordially, "I don't think we could have fought them off much longer".

Another rider weaved through the others and an elf astride a black horse came before her. His long dark hair and regal bearing gave her an idea somewhat of who she was in the presence of. His wise ancient eyes were gentle as he peered at her curiously.

"Who might you be, Mellon Nin?"

Thoughts? Constructive criticisms?

Any thoughts or comments are much appreciated!