The Fellowship of the Ring Werewolf

[Ectoplasm]

The Passing of Gandalf the Grey

The hour was late, and weariness weighed upon every heart.
Voices, once united in purpose, had turned to fear and doubt.
In the gathering gloom, the Fellowship sought an enemy among themselves and in their blindness, they found one cloaked not in malice, but in wisdom.

When the final cry was raised and the deed done, a stillness fell across the land.
The air itself seemed to mourn. The staff of Gandalf the Grey, servant of the Secret Fire, tumbled from his grasp and struck the earth with a sound that echoed like thunder in the mountains.

Light flickered about him, faint at first, then bright as sunrise, before fading into the mists that roll beyond mortal sight.

None spoke. The Fellowship stood as if carved from stone, their hearts heavy with the sudden knowing of their folly.

For though he was stern and strange, his counsel was true, and his watchful eyes had guarded them from perils unseen.

Now the path ahead grows darker, and the company must walk it without their guide.

Yet, somewhere beyond the circles of the world, a whisper stirs — soft as the turning of the wind upon the mountains:
 “Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment… for even the wise cannot see all ends.”