Faramir was running again, oh how wonderful it felt to run through the woods again! He felt so free, as if there wasnt anything that could stop him, or bring him down this time. Faramir's course took him up the Boinne, if he werent euphoric at the time, he probably would have noticed the large boat that was sailing towards the Harbor.

Faramir finally made it their, a clearing in the midst of several of the oldest oaks in the forest. He came before the foot of the biggest old oak and immediatly began to dig. He brought with him no tools, so the work was done with his hands. After about twenty-minutes of clawing at the ground, Faramir had foudn what he was digging for.

The very longsword that had been his since he was twenty, the same great weapon that had been with him during the great battle was now being held in his hands, the blade in its sheath and the sheath wrapped in coarse cloth. His hand gripped the handle and as he drew the beautifully simple weapon, a metallic swishing sound reverberated throughout the clearing. He hacked down two invisible enemies and sheathed it once more; looping the sword to his belt.

Faramir had returned, and it was time he proved his worth to his new friends.