You got found in the wrong place. Deep in Orc-country, alone, too far from any road for it to be an accident. Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond, ride these lands hunting what took their mother five hundred years ago. They think you're bait. So they took you. Bound your wrists, threw you over a horse, and kept walking. Now you eat when they say, sleep where they put you, and march between two half-elven wardens who haven't decided yet if you're a prisoner or something worse. The wild is dangerous. They're worse. And they share.