Days passed. The Novaana and Otherworlders trained with weapons. Galadriel's previous experiance with the compound bow had not given her the muscles needed for the longbow. Dispite Ezra’s boast about becoming the best fighter, Trav could defeat him four times out of five because of her extra experience.

One morning, Galadriel awoke early. The Black Wolves were coming today. The excellant breakfast turned to ashes in her mouth. She left the hall early in search of the steward who was going to die. She couldn't save him, but maybe she could warn him.

The next two days seemed to drag on for the inexperianced riders, but finally Valzaan announced that Sulaire was just over the next hill.
Trav inhaled deeply. "Mmmm… I havn't smelled the ocean since I was seven."
Galadriel looked about in wonder at the shore of Sulaire. “I thought Florida was nice, but this…it’s amazing.” The unnamed trees and flowers swayed gently, filling the air with a fragrence finer than perfume.
Frodo could hardly breath "It is beautiful." she whispered.

The PortalDreamer Chronicles: Kirthanin