The sun was out, bright, and warm. Every corner of the Basin reveled in it. Even the usually cold mountains seemed less chilly and harsh in the warm afternoon light. All seemed to welcome the warmth and take a break from the harsh life of the north. All except the golden. Through the back of the valley in the shadows he wanders keeping out of the sunlight and plain sight.

How long had it been since he had done anything normal such as walking the boarders of the lands? For so long he had been tracing after the battles of new world. The last one he didn’t even fight in. The gold had slipped in as another, but once the fight broke out, slipped off. He was up for an adventure, but wounding himself just after getting well. Now normality was returning. Such as feeling his breath (almost) solidly within his grasp. (It still came a bit raspy during a run.) He should be feeling his oats, jogging in the sun, and embracing the power his was beginning to feel in his legs again. Haldir was. The deer trotted out a little more in the sun, but kept up. Though his back was still short of hair, it felt the glorious sun.

There was still a good bit not normal though. The mountains had always been an escape, a hideaway. But now more than ever their towering rocks loomed over him. Watching him. Never letting their gaze rest. And sleep came less and less. His whole body still ached though no ill pressed it anymore. A heaviness weighed on his breath and eyes, but when he lay upon the wolf skin, no easement came. The ailments were not just physical either. A shadow trailed his steps, haunting him in the light. The coat of the ghost glimmering sometimes in a hue of pink, sometimes in a pure white. He would glimpse it in the late afternoon or early morn, but when he turned to look, it would always be gone. And his whole body would be arrested and taunt.

So his mind revolves as normal, but finds itself frozen and suffocated. Culled before it can get anywhere. It might have gone on like that, had he not nearly fallen on his face. The cloven hoof hits metal and it nearly jolts the golden forward. Haldir from the sun beyond senses a change, and stops alert, then moves. “What the hell-“ The gold steadies himself, shaking his crowned head as he wakes up from his daze. He finds a pile of rocks, cascading out from a cave. A long sigh rolls off. That was normal. Cave collapses were a risk of their way of life. But something caught his eye, a metal door lay swung open, its bars slightly bend. Haldir trots up to join the gold and looks with a most curious eye. What that? His voice comes through in elvish. The gold stares for a moment before his shoulders sag. Prison cell.

It fit everything just perfectly. Harks twitch irritated. Just another thing. And it irked him to see another thing crumbled and unused. The sentinels at the gates were rusted, the tent always empty, now this. It was just another thing. Another responsibility. Gods. He thinks for a moment, his mind finally waking up to the truth of his misery. Or at least one of them.

What do? The voice of Haldir interrupts the golden’s thoughts. The golden even jumps slightly, and the deer is surprised to see it. The young buck can feel a change, a shiver, and shift in the air. A restlessness growing more intense. The gold moves out from the wall slightly, his voice rising above the warm summer air. "Johnny!" The crafter, this was his job. Not the golden. The Laurelin was feeling a tingle in his bones, a new wind against his coat, and he would make this as short and fast as he could. Haldir, standing to the side, watching, curious, says nothing. But his keen heart beats faster. 

"Ta lk?"

we live like thieves
     kings among men