As we ready ourselves to leave this artificially frozen wasteland, I found myself addressing an audience of the Ents. Such ancient creatures are not easy to find, nor is there any ease in communicating with them. A horrid giant, wrought at the hand of Saruman himself, stalks these lands, leaving frozen destruction in his wake — once a Huorn, he now is an abomination of stone and wood, sentient and angry. This evil being will fall before us. This I swear. The people of this land are simple, they are scared, they will freeze or starve.
I will be glad to leave this place. I have never been one for the cold — my home is, year round, a pleasant place.
I shall endeavor to write more once I have reached more temperate climes, my hands are cold and I am tired.