Balisan

Morwen found Balisan a curious sort. She had spent much time amongst the Aftercomers. In Esgaroth and then later in Dale. She had known the fiery and hardy people of the upper Anduin vales, the strange folk of Beorn's kin, the industrious and rustic folk of lost Arnor and Cardolan that is called Breeland and the proud clans of the lands to the north who defied the coming storm like a weathered pine. But the folk of Gondor were new to her. They had a little bit of all the others she had met in them.

Getting up was difficult. His legs were not used to carry the weight of his body, even the little that was left. As he walked, again and again he had to hold on to the walls and pieces of furniture, sitting down frequently. As old and exhausted as his body felt, his mind was flowing with energy, his will rekindled. And so he made himself get up and walk among the trees as often as he could muster the strength. The peace of the wood and the ever present whisper of a song in the air soothed his physical pain and strengthened the resolve of his mind.