This place smells foul. It smells like blood and the rotting smell of Uruk-hai. There were weapons and discarded tools. There was a pile of bodies wrapped in spoke. I grip my bow tightly. The air is still yet I can still feel the battle from it. It's something ghastly.

"There's nothing!" Gimli yells.

"Gimli, we mustn't give up." I say to him.

I hear Aragorn's heavy breathing. Yet... there is also something else. I cock my head. I hear something else. Singing? It sounds like a blissful melody that falls like rose petals. Am I hearing things? It falls into my ears like a river. It's soft and beautiful. I turn my head to the forest of Fangorn.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asks. 

"Nothing." I turn.

I don't even know if I'm hearing this correctly. It's probably nothing. Aragorn kicks a helmet and screams in anger. I let out a breath. He looks down. 

"They cut themselves lose." He holds up broken string.

He then moved to another patch of broken grass.

"They ran." He says.

"Ran to-- oh no..." I mutter looking where he's looking. 

" The Forest of Fangorn." Aragorn mutters.

The singing gets louder.

"There is something ancient about this place. They say a white wizard lurks in the forest." I say. 

"Casting spells no doubt." Gimli lifts his axe. 

"We're going in, but be careful this place is old as the earth itself." Aragorn says.