The forest is quiet, all of its animals asleep in the dead of night, and only the moonlight filtering through the trees lights Elrond's way. He steers his horse along a southern path, trailing the border of Rivendell's forest nearby the valley.

He sees no signs of orcs, no abandoned encampments or lost weapons, but he knows better than to trust their absence blindly. The orcs encroach upon Middle-Earth once again, even if he doesn't yet know why or where.

Elrond tilts his head, guiding his horse to a halt when he catches a sound on the whispers of the wind. It's a faint sound, and he turns to scan his surroundings as he tries to listen for the sound again.

"Who's there?" he calls out.