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( 𖤓 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢 𖤓 ) a sickly forest !
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THE SOUND OF many horse hooves hitting the ground could be heard as the company of Thorin Oakenshield galloped across the Wilderlands. As they ventured closer to their destination, Beorn watched over them from atop a mountain in his beast form. He was keeping an eye out for any orcs that might've been lurking in the shadows.
After a while of riding, they'd all safely arrived at the entrance of the Mirkwood forest. The dwarves began to descend from their ponies, causing Nelladrie to do the same. As her boots collided with the ground, she looked up to gaze upon the elven gate. She'd never been this close to the forest before, and it was unlike anything she'd ever seen.
"Here lies our path through Mirkwood," Gandalf spoke as he, too, came down from his horse.
"No sign of the orcs," Dwalin began to say, "We have luck on our side..."
The wizard told all of them, "Set the ponies loose. Let them return to their master." Everyone began to unpack their belongings from the horses.
"This forest feels...sick," Bilbo commented as he gazed upon the tall trees, "As if a disease lies upon it." His expression twisted into a bit of a concerned one. "Is there no way around?"
