(The second dribble of six. Merry goes out for a sniff air in Bree, and finds more than he bargained for.)

BLACK BREATH IN BREE

You see that shade among the shadows, beyond the lamplight,
and you have to follow, you have to know,
drawn on, in spite of your mind screaming.
‘Perhaps I’ll learn something useful,’ you think,
but that’s not what you believe.
Mist is in your eyes
of tears and weariness.
What is hope?
Deep water
waits…