Eomer held out the horseshoe for Fulor the blacksmith.  There was an urgency about his movements that unsettled the twelve year old boy.  He wanted to ask, but suddenly he did not want to know.  He simply looked at the process of shoeing this horse, which had within his heart had now taken on all the urgency in the world.  He could not explain the foreboding in his heart. Fulor quickly looked away, unspoken pain evident. Shoeing finished, Folcwine, second steward to his father rode forth. Later he returned with his father, gravely injured. His father, who died later that night.