The battle had been hard-fought, and in the chaos, Boromir had lost his sword—his most trusted companion in war. Though the Fellowship now rested, he could not. The thought of his weapon, lost somewhere in the wild, gnawed at him like an unshakable weight.

So he wandered. Beneath the towering trees, he moved with purpose, eyes scanning the forest floor, searching for a glint of steel among the fallen leaves. The night was still, save for the distant murmur of wind through the branches.

But he was not alone.

High above, nestled in the boughs of an ancient tree, you watched. Your keen eyes followed his every step, silent, unseen—a shadow among the leaves.