<b>Outside the inn, Pegawen handed her bags to Allassiel who strapped them to the horses. She took a moment, while she adjusted the hood of her cloak, to look around. Lining the street were several buildings, some appeared to be shops while others were most likely homes. A cart went by, stopping at the market square where several merchants set up their stalls for the day. She wondered, briefly, if they had anything to eat. However, there was an urgency to depart after the events the night before. She shook her head and turned her attentions back to her companions, just in time to hear Timberlane's final comment. <i>Wights? Orcs? Or worse … </i>She shuddered at the images, for Sauron had been cold … vicious. His creations had been a reflection of his hatred for the Valar, and many still roamed Arda. <br/>
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Whatever evil dwelled here, she was quite sure that she'd prefer not to run into his minions. But with the stone in their possession … Her thought was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder and she nodded when her cousin leaned in and whispered to her.</b><br/><br/><b>Allassiel, having finished securing their bags, tapped on Pegawen's shoulder. “Come, the sooner we have left here, the better,” she whispered and offered her arm, waiting for Pegawen to pull herself into the saddle. The conversation made her wary and she scanned the streets before mounting her own. “This Greendale, how far to ride there?” she asked as the group urged their horses forward. </b>