Bitterroot Valley on this earth not alone we stand

it is true imrathil did not have the same reservations as wardruna -- his mind clouded, and memories obscured. yet he knew distinctly the keen pull that told his feet where to march when his thoughts were mindless - it was an inexplicable sense that kept him moving, and perhaps, the same inexplicable sense that had somehow evinced his survival between the narrow jaws of death.

he looked along the broken expanse as wardruna commented on both its boons and its shortcomings; imrathil agreed, and gave a nod in answer. yet his gaze was drawn ever towards the blotted horizon, which was dappled with the tall shoulders of strong mountains, and sheathed in a shimmering fall mist.

"lets hope we don't need cover," the dark male replied wryly, already falling in step behind wardruna with his sharp eyes looking forward.