# 22 New Race
It was that time of year again in the Hidden Valley of Imladris—the first snowfall of the year. Even though the twins were well past their majority, they still acted like small elflings each time.
They hurriedly got dressed, ate breakfast in the Great Hall, kissed their mother and father, and rushed outside.
The twins could feel the excitement build up inside them like every year. "So, Elladan, are you ready?" Elrohir asked with a smirk on his face.
"I have been ready brother!" Elladan grinned, his gray eyes flashing with excitement.
Both could feel the anticipation growing with each passing minute. As they stared down the hill with sleds in tow, they got into the starting position. Both twins were laying belly first on their sleds staring down the steep hill. At the bottom of the hill, Glorfindel was waiting for them with a mixed look of worry and eagerness on his face.
Each year with the new snowfall the twins always came up with ideas for a new race and this year it was a sled race down the steepest hill in all Imladris—Dead Elves Hill! Glorfindel could only hope their father and especially their mother did not find out about this let alone that he was a part of it. He shivered at the thought of what would happen if they did.
Meanwhile, back at the top of the hill, the twins were waiting for the signal to begin. Neither one of them needed to say anything as they were both attuned to one another's feelings through the bond they shared with each other. Finally, they saw the signal and both took a deep breath, released it and with a one, two, three, and a massive push with their hands, they were off on the race of their lives.
At the bottom of the hill a very frantic golden-haired ellon stood praying every prayer, he knew to the Valar, all three would live to see a brand new day. After all, Glorfindel did not think Mandos would be too pleased to see him grace his Halls a second time.