As Finrod pondered Lyra's abrupt departure, a sense of confusion lingered in his thoughts. The gentle crackling of the campfire provided a backdrop to his contemplation, and the flickering flames danced in a hypnotic rhythm. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had unintentionally caused some distress, and the question echoed within him [i]What did I do?[/i]

Despite the inner turmoil, Finrod decided to channel his energy into preparing for Lyra's return. Gathering wood, he skillfully arranged it, ensuring the fire would be ready to welcome her back. Leaning against a sturdy log, weariness began to settle in, and Finrod's heavy eyes betrayed his need for rest. Soon, the tranquility of the campsite embraced him, and he succumbed to a light slumber.

In the realm of dreams, Finrod found solace in memories of his homeland – a nostalgic journey to the carefree days of his youth, playing with his parents. The warmth of those moments enveloped him, softening the edges of the recent confusion. His mind wandered to a special place, a hidden cave behind a majestic waterfall, where laughter echoed in the company of friends.

However, the peace of his dreams was interrupted by the snapping of a nearby tree branch, a sudden intrusion that jolted him awake. The wind whispered its secrets, and Finrod's eyes darted towards the fallen twigs. Startled, he muttered, "What was that?"

As he surveyed the surroundings, the remnants of his pleasant dream lingered, providing a momentary refuge from the questions that weighed on him. Patiently, he awaited Lyra's return, the crackling fire a beacon in the quiet wilderness, ready to illuminate the path forward.

Contemplating their journey ahead, he quietly wondered where they should go today and which path to take. The unspoken question hung in the air, a conversation he anticipated having with Lyra upon her return.