[b][h2][centre]Leofric Aelwinovich[/centre][/h2][/b]

Leofric said little during the ascent is search of the first protected place, as had become his custom. Normally the grizzled veteran seemed inclined to his solitude, having little to say unless spoken to preferring the company of his mule Zapas to that of civilized men and women. On the trail he lingered near the back. At camp, he kept to himself, tending his weapon and mule. To Arda's questioning glances he only paused at whatever he was doing; oiling and wiping down his weapon, stitching the holes in his clothing, or going back to staring into the fire or out into the darkness as though his thoughts were far, far away. 

So it was unusual that upon reaching a flat promontory, protected to the lee side by a large overhang, that he called from the back of the group. "This place is good to camp." He gestured to the overhang. "The way is narrow. This is protection from the weather. And the troglodytes."  

Leofric tied off Zapas to a rock. "Set camp. I shall keep the watch."

Leofric had clearly spent time in such places and wasted none in fashioning himself a position out of snow near the unprotected edge of the promontory, concealed from all sides by snow but with clear sight of the approaches, and the bluffs above them. Settling in, he wrapped his cape around himself, propping his spear and shield across his lap and sat there.

Leofric sat there, unphased by the howling of the mountain wind that whipped its way up over the promontory lip, heedless of the frosty ice that settled into his beard and brows and lashes. He sat there, still as a statue as the snow flakes fell down and gazing off at the passes, and up into the rocky slopes where Síobhra, Aderynel and Tárwen scouted forward for them. It seemed like something he'd done a thousand times before.