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[gondolin_noble]

The air is sweet in the clearing Glorfindel had been using as a campsite, and the birds are singing a bright morning chorus. Asfaloth, grazing peaceably nearby, nickers a greeting as Glorfindel leads Sunshine through the treebranch doorway he'd found by accident.

There is no sign of habitation, human or otherwise - Glorfindel could have dropped them on an empty planet.

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[gondolin_noble]

Glorfindel offers no defensive posturing as they near, but the cart pulls off the road sharply anyway, the armed man backing up against he wood of the cart.

The man is trembling. Both of them are. There's a storm of whispers from inside the covered portion of the cart, but no-one appears from inside.

Glorfindel, for his part, walks by without a word.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine may blink in mild surprise at their reaction as the cart and its people pass - she can't help but think of the long walk back to town with Con, when people began crossing the street to keep from passing close to her muttering, stumbling, mud-and-blood-spattered figure more than to stay away from the vampire traveling with her - but she does do her best not to outright stare. In the back of her mind is a little voice wondering when she developed this habit of jiving with frightening people. She apparently does it by choice, too, which may be the more worrisome aspect.

"Huh," she remarks, once the people are well out of earshot.

[gondolin_noble]

Since he doesn't actually know what 'huh' might mean, he continues on, undisturbed. Glorfindel is used to odd reactions this side of the Misty Mountains - the natives of this land never became used to elves.

[sunbaked_baker]

"What was that about?" she asks, glancing at him as they walk. He hadn't seemed surprised by the reaction. Nor angry, offended, or... anything, really.

[gondolin_noble]

"Elves are the firstborn of Arda - my people remember the land before the sun, when all was lit by Elbereth's scattered stars. Once, the kingdom of the elves extended even here. It has been two ages of this world since that time, and except in some very special cases, the memory of elves has passed long ago into legend." He quirks a smile in her direction, which takes some of the boundless age out of his eyes. "I imagine it is frightening, to find one's fairytales walking under the sun."

[sunbaked_baker]

"I guess it would be," she admits, thinking about fairy tales and how close (or how far) they fall from reality, "if they forget those stories aren't just stories."

It makes her think about some of her friends at Milliways. They know about vampires and the various kinds of Others, but only as parts of stories. Their worlds don't have those kinds of dangers, and so the reality of it... kind of passes them by. Sunshine can't imagine what some of them would do, faced with meeting the Others from stories.

"I don't know if people would forget very easily, in my world. All our fairy tales are already out and about, and the stories that come with them are usually cautionary ones."

[gondolin_noble]

Glorfindel laughs.
"Remind me to tell you the tale of the Dunadain some time." He replies, "But come, we must ride again, the day is drawing on."

Asfaloth waits, steady as a rock, for her to climb on.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Remember," she says with a grin, trying to get up onto the horse's back without actually climbing on, "to tell me the tale of the Dunadain some time."

Telling stories on long trips is traditional, anyway. "I have the sneaking suspicion that there'll be plenty of time for it."

[gondolin_noble]

It's still fairly climb-y, but Asfaloth holds patiently as his master bids him. Glorfindel mounts in front of her again, and soon the lands are flying past once again, the light clip of Asfaloth's hooves keeping time with the merry jangling of the bells on his tack.

"Eärendur, son of Elendur, tenth king of Arnor. amd the heir of Isildur, the great Northern kingdom of the Dunadain, ruled the men of these lands with a fair and just hand. Though Arnor was still sundered from her Southern half, she prospered under good leadership. The capitol city, or at least her ruins, is not far from here - it is from whence I came, actually. At the time of his death, his three sons fought for control of the crown, and ultimately the kingdom was torn between them. The eldest, Amlaith, he who should have been king of Arnor, claimed the lands we ride through now as the kingdom of Arthedain."

Glorfindel in story-telling mode can cover quite a few miles - after all, he knew all of these people personally, once.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine holds on, listening as they ride. It would feel almost like a fairytale, indeed, with the talk of kings and succession woes. Except... in this place and from this storyteller, it sounds more like a history lesson.

[gondolin_noble]

By the time he reaches the tragic end of the kingdom of Arthedain, and of the revenge enacted by the navies of Gondor, the sun is setting on the western horizon and the air has cooled significantly. Glorfindel shows no sign of halting for the night, however.

[sunbaked_baker]

She rarely interrupts, and then only with the occasional question. Most of the afternoon and into the early evening, Rae is quiet.

Sunshine can only imagine the events Glorfindel describes as happening in this very countryside. It's unsettling to her, though she couldn't say why. It shouldn't be any different than knowing there were local battles during the Voodoo Wars that affected New Arcadia and the surrounding towns. Chesterfield is still Whiteout. No Town is still... well, No Town. Perhaps it's how few people are living in the countryside they're passing through, how few signs that people ever did.

For whatever reason, she isn't surprised that they continue on even as the sun is setting. It's that sort of trip. Her rear went numb long ago, however smoothly Asfaloth runs, but Rae had resolved even before they left the bar that she wouldn't complain. There's no way she's going to break down on the very first day.

However, there's little she can do to help her stomach growling.

[gondolin_noble]

Elves do not giggle, so Rae will simply have to find some other descriptor for what Glorfindel does in response. He does, however, also nudge Asfaloth off the road, beneath the cover of the overarching trees. The horse delicately picks his way between tree roots and upthrust stones, until they reach a clearing partially encircled by a low tumbling stone wall.

"We shall stay here, for the night - and if you wait, I can find what tonight's dinner may be."

[sunbaked_baker]

It certainly sounded a bit giggle-ish. It's possible he was chuckling. Chortling, however, would be far too undignified.

Rae looks around at the clearing and its ruined wall, the lone survivor of whatever building once stood there.

"Guess I'll wait, then." She doesn't say Where else would I go?

[gondolin_noble]

He's used to taking young elflings on training missions when he is going this slow - they, for sure, would be prone to wandering off. Asfaloth kneels, patiently waiting for Sunshine to get off as his master disappears into the trees.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine dismounts, if it can even be called that when the horse is kneeling for her, a little stiffly. She winces - her back feels like she's been using only the bottom oven for a whole day's baking - but smiles ruefully at Asfaloth. For all she knows, her riding was no more enjoyable for him than it was for her. "Thanks for putting up with me."

It's reaching that point where the half-light of dusk gives way to true night, when her Dark Sight stops making her depth perception wonky and actually works right. It still sits ill with her that she now sees better in darkness than she can in daylight, but there's nothing to do about it. The moon isn't up yet, but the stars are already out, casting soft, glimmering shadows from the leaves of the trees.

[gondolin_noble]

He returns shortly, his cloak bundled to carry what he has scavenged to supplement the meal. Usually he would also be hunting, but for now he is respecting her wishes. The glow that usually only she can see is obvious on a dark night such as tonight, a faint gleam as if the starlight was focused over him.

"If you would care to collect deadfall?" Hobbits aren't the only ones who enjoy a well-cooked mushroom, but unlike hobbits, he's not tempted by raw specimens.

[sunbaked_baker]

"No problem," Sunshine nods, moving to begin collecting dry wood for a fire.

She's grateful for the consideration in regards to the food. Rae already knows this trip is going to be full of new experiences. Camping outdoors is already going to be one of them - she doesn't want to add 'ducking behind some bushes to keep from being sick' due to sudden dead animals.

Though part of her knows it's likely that there won't always be edible wild mushrooms; the land doesn't always come with a vegetarian option. That this trip might necessitate a... change in diet is a real possibility, but she'll cross that bridge when she comes to it. For now, she collects firewood.

[gondolin_noble]

Glorfindel smiles, and after a few minutes of rummaging he turns and disappears into the woods again, two heavy leather satchels slung over his shoulder.

Before too long he has returned, the satchels full of cold river-water. After setting them down within the rim of the rock wall, he goes to free Asfaloth from his tack.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine knows enough to know that different sizes of wood pieces are needed for a fire. Smaller ones for when the fire is being built, and larger ones for when it's established. She also knows that dry but not rotten nor green wood is what to go for, though just how you tell if a wood is still green, she has no idea.

She also realizes after a while that she doesn't know how much wood is needed. How long does it take for a good chunk of tree to burn, anyway? Does it depend on the kind of wood? At a loss, Rae stacks the wood she finds near the crumbling wall, in what she feels is a neat pile.

[gondolin_noble]

There's another faint laugh (definitely not a giggle) as he sends Asfaloth to wander as he will. However, he manages to refrain from teasing as he grabs the needed wood to build a small campfire.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine has her arms full when she spots something in a little underbrush-strewn clearing a little ways from the tumble-down wall, so she brings back the wood she's carrying to add it to the pile before going back to get a closer look.

The stack of wood is beginning to look like another low wall, jutting out at an angle from the stone.

"Uh... so, how much wood do we need?"

[gondolin_noble]

"The Rangers who regularly use this site will have cause to thank you - there is no need to gather for months." Glorfindel replies cheerfully as he guards a tiny flickering flame from stray breezes with his hands.

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine laughs, adding the last armful to the stack. "Well, that's good to know."

Aside from liking to be useful, the mental image of rangers unknowingly using wood stacked - only slightly haphazardly - by someone from another world amuses her. Just a bit.

"How're we going to cook those?" she asks, nodding towards the gathered mushrooms.

[gondolin_noble]

"In a manner that would cause camp cooks that I know to cry." He refrains from mentioning what the hobbits would do, but he had no desire to haul pots and pans around with him for this last stretch of the journey - his more complete pack is in Imladris. "Fetch some of the smaller, flat rocks from the wall?" He adds, as he encourages the fire to continue burning.