Fëanáro's bare feet barely made a sond as they touched the forest floor. He was used to this forest. He knew every tree and every way through the dense expanse of shrubbery, dead leaves and tall trees. He paused and looked up. In the forest, sometimes night would come and you wouldn't know about it. Fëanáro wasn't going to let that happen to him again. The sky was still blue. Fënáro walked on. He knew where he was going. He was going to get out. He was going to get away from K'aav if it killed him. He thought of the outside and began to daydream about having a wife and a family on the outside world when he was snapped back to reality by a loud crunch. Fëanáro stopped walking. He knew that a Guard wouldn't make that kind of noise. Guards moved with extreme precision and timing. Guards didn't make noises. Fëanáro drew his sword. There was only one thing that could make that noise. As he turned around, a shadow fell over him. It was the shadow of something unhuman. Fëanáro screamed, but his scream was cut short and then Fënáro was no more.