The temperature has cooled off a bit since we got close to the Hills. We might have to break out the blankets tonight, as Strider doesn't want to light a fire in case the Black Riders are lurking in the vicinity. Great...cram again and no fire!
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It dived into dells, and hugged steep banks; and where it passed over flatter and more open ground on either side of it there were lines of large boulders and hewn stones that screened the travellers almost like a hedge.
"I wonder who made this path, and what for," said Merry, as they walked along one of these avenues, where the stones were unusually large and closely set. "I am not sure that I like it: it has a--well, rather a barrow-wightish look. Is there any barrow on Weathertop?"
"No. There is no barrow on Weathertop, nor on any of these hills," answered Strider. "The Men of the West did not live here; though in their latter days they defended the hills for a while against the evil that came out of Angmar. This path was made to serve the forts along the walls.
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"It's impossible to have Frodo without Sam, or Sam without Frodo. They're like two halves of one heart..."
"If your hurts grieve you still and the memory of your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West..."
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