[It is just as well that Hythlodaeus is with him, and keeping an eye on him; for as soon as they are among the buildings, Faramir's pace begins to slow, his eye wandering. He ought not to hesitate, ought to keep his mind on the matter at hand, but...]
[These buildings arch high as mallorn-trees, glinting glass and steel, silent guards of a jagged skyline. Beneath their feet, the mud has given way not to dressed granite, as he first thought, but to something else; something smooth and seamless, a river of stone. There are lights behind the glass; witch-lights that do not flicker, but burn in strange colours. This is a dream-city, and he falters where he walks, turning his face up towards the falling rain, which is caught in strange colours as it drips onto the black roadway.]
no subject
[These buildings arch high as mallorn-trees, glinting glass and steel, silent guards of a jagged skyline. Beneath their feet, the mud has given way not to dressed granite, as he first thought, but to something else; something smooth and seamless, a river of stone. There are lights behind the glass; witch-lights that do not flicker, but burn in strange colours. This is a dream-city, and he falters where he walks, turning his face up towards the falling rain, which is caught in strange colours as it drips onto the black roadway.]
[He is doing a terrible job at blending in.]
...This place...