Work Text:
He didn't know what had guided his hand when he threw the knife, for his aim should not have been so true. He was tired and hungry, and the light was dim from heavy clouds, but somehow the blade found it's target. The snake was only about a foot long with a narrow girth, but it was food and he was in no position to be choosy.
He roasted some of the meat for his dinner, but decided to bake the rest in the embers as he rested, a slow-cooked meal he could take with him when he continued along his path in a few hours. Two small meals to be sure, but good sustenance for the road.
He'd not had too many opportunities to live off the land, having been fortunate to have adequate provisions to share among his men during most of his days in the field. But the lessons from his youth had not left him, and though his journey was now more difficult than he imagined when he left Gondor, he was certain he'd find sufficient food, sure that his steps were guided by forces beyond his reckoning. He had come to accept his brother's belief that this trip held a greater purpose: he was meant to be on this road, for his words were needed as was the council he hoped to receive.