(no subject)

The air is crisp and clean, with the dryness that comes with elevation. There are a few tall trees - mostly pines, lean and wind-beaten. The rest are low-growing shrubs, growing thickly in patches between outcroppings of rough granite. These are the empty lands just north of the Misty Mountains, and in the caves here, orcs and a few uruk-hai still live.

The pair emerge between two pine trees, one young and hale, the other burnt and and tilted sideways to form a rough and very tall doorway. The sky is the dark blue of the late-afternoon, and white fluffy clouds cluster around the distant peaks. They are downwind of the small hunting party - several humans, mingled with the sweet smoke of their pipes, and the scents of two others which vaguely resemble Glorfindel's scent.
"Now, wait a moment..." He pauses, crouching to scoop up a handful of dirt. "You are not nearly filthy enough to pass as a human."


Yes. He's enjoying this.