Source: Pre LotR
Disclaimer: It’s Tolkien’s - not Kortirion’s
Wrinkled boot-leather rubbed his instep. Trying to ignore the hurt, he made himself relax the tense muscles in his back. Learning to walk, really walk, had come as a surprise. He’d hiked the mountains around Imladris, but a dozen leagues was no preparation for a hundred.
"Take longer paces," Loss said, "loosen your shoulders."
Eventually, he’d come to match her long, loose gait.
They approached the last inn before the wilds. A hard-faced man wrinkled his nose at the new-made Ranger.
"Look, we got a right strider ‘ere!" he sneered.
The Elf whispered, "Pay no heed Estel, name-calling hides their fears."