Ashes to Ashes

Scene 3

The day's melted together, a fortnight passing without any even remotely interesting events. Farin stuck to his usual schedule, passing the time as best he could. To him, the day's seemed to shift, seemed to imitate the calm before the storm. He had asked his mother if she felt the same way, but Merian did not. He had also asked his little sister, only answered with an odd look and a short, 'no'. He had no evidence to back up his odd questioning, only the wreck that was Bard's home (fixed and back to normal suspiciously quickly), the footsteps on the roof and sounds of fighting, and the sudden lack of dwarves, having probably gone to meet their kin, who were most likely dead at this point. It would be a rude awakening but not an unexpected one, he assumed.

Farin was feeling more and more on edge as the day's went by, doing his very best to act normal. If he hadn't been acting odd himself, he wouldn't have noticed Bard doing the same thing, extra glances toward the mountain, hurrying his pace wherever he went, as if there weren't enough days left to do what needed to be done. Maybe there weren't.

On the night that marked two weeks after the dwarves left, Farin went to bed with a sick feeling in his stomach. The storm was on the horizon, and it would have no mercy.