As I soar over the fields of Rohan, I see the victorious soldiers returning to their lives of peace. They are happy, but I am grieved. I am not content, though I know I should be. "The Dark Lord is destroyed; there are no reasons for melancholy now."
Even though this has become a continuous chant in the back of my mind, I cannot believe it. A shadow is creeping over the festivities; I fear there is still unrest and evil in the world.
Movement! I am cast out of my reverie when I spot a shadow moving on the ground. In a moment I am upon the unfortunate creature. Disgusting! Orc meat is foul, but I must eat; it will not do to eat those I know to be supporters of the Light. I force myself to swallow the rest of the filth, for I know I will need my strength if my feeling proves to be more than simple paranoia. I turn towards home, scanning the fields below for any suspicious activity. It will not do to be taken unawares; we are more vulnerable when we a weakened by drink. It is a safe flight home, but I am greeted by much grief when I arrive.
"Gwaihir has been slain!" is the cry which echoes above the rest when I finally enter the Great Hall, a cavern covered, on all sides, with thousands of small holes, roosts for the council members.
"How could this have happened?" I ask Gwyndle, my sister, "Surely he was safe enough in Gondor, celebrating with the men and elves! Would they not look for his safety; he is the reason that many survived."
"There is still no word from the White City. We must pursue the truth; it will not do to let our Father's killer go free. Come, Awyng."
At that, she takes to the air and I follow. She is right. We must have vengeance; the death of our lord and father will not go unpunished."
Even though this has become a continuous chant in the back of my mind, I cannot believe it. A shadow is creeping over the festivities; I fear there is still unrest and evil in the world.
Movement! I am cast out of my reverie when I spot a shadow moving on the ground. In a moment I am upon the unfortunate creature. Disgusting! Orc meat is foul, but I must eat; it will not do to eat those I know to be supporters of the Light. I force myself to swallow the rest of the filth, for I know I will need my strength if my feeling proves to be more than simple paranoia. I turn towards home, scanning the fields below for any suspicious activity. It will not do to be taken unawares; we are more vulnerable when we a weakened by drink. It is a safe flight home, but I am greeted by much grief when I arrive.
"Gwaihir has been slain!" is the cry which echoes above the rest when I finally enter the Great Hall, a cavern covered, on all sides, with thousands of small holes, roosts for the council members.
"How could this have happened?" I ask Gwyndle, my sister, "Surely he was safe enough in Gondor, celebrating with the men and elves! Would they not look for his safety; he is the reason that many survived."
"There is still no word from the White City. We must pursue the truth; it will not do to let our Father's killer go free. Come, Awyng."
At that, she takes to the air and I follow. She is right. We must have vengeance; the death of our lord and father will not go unpunished."