Of the Istari

“Now, Radagast was a peculiar one,” Mithrandir grinned, his grey eyes distant with memory. “He knew his task, of course, and he did honestly try to keep to it. But the plants and animals of Middle-earth enchanted him. Anything that lived, in whatever form or fashion, piqued his interest. I believe he still minds his task, but in a way in which we do not understand.”

“Is he still in Middle-earth, Mithrandir?” Faramir inquired. “Or has he, too, passed into legend?”

“Oh, Radagast is still among us,” Mithrandir smile broadened. “Perhaps he shall help us when we need him most.”