Randi stays where he is and doesn't follow them. 

:....Randi?: 

:- No. Wait. Sondra, where - where is she...?: 

Randi is kind of kicking himself for not having thought of this five minutes ago. It's...not hurting, not exactly? He can feel her absence and the strain of distance but it doesn't feel like he expected a broken bond would, and he was VERY distracted by Shavri. 

...He tries reaching for the god who spoke with them before, just in case that works, though he doesn't really expect it to because his Mindspeech range is terrible. 

:My Companion. Sondra. Is she - where is she -?: 

SHE IS WITH ME.

:Can I - can you send her back? Please?: 

YES.

Sondra wakes up in a neighboring clearing in Lórien. In a human body, because giving Men the shapes of horses is a gods-of-Velgarth thing that is definitely not part of Eru's plan.

....She tries to take a step and immediately falls on her face because she isn't expecting human-shaped legs. 

What. 

- okay, apparently her Mindspeech still works. (Sondra was a Mindspeaker, in her human life, when she was a Herald living in Valdemar four hundred years ago.) 

:Randi?: 

:Over here! I'm right here - I'm coming -: 

He reaches her. 

:....What: 

Sondra tries to pull herself to her feet, with more success this time.

"- Right? I know! I just - I woke up like this?"

Randi has so many questions. And, also, none of them are at all relevant right now. 

He pulls Sondra to her feet and hugs her. :You're back. That's all that matters. We - there's an emergency - we have to go: 

Shavri catches up, Vanyel on her heels. :- What?: 

Honestly this isn't even CLOSE to the weirdest thing that's happened lately. 

"Doesn't matter. Come on, let's go." Vanyel beckons them back toward the waiting Elves. 

Calanáro starts to lead them in the direction that he thinks is out of Lórien,

On second thought, actually—

Lord Irmo, he prays silently, can you please forget about the 'remote from civilization by nature' thing for a bit? We're kind of in a hurry.

"This might be a little disorienting," he warns the others.

Irmo sighs, if immaterial gods can sigh, and puts them all on the lawn outside Fëanor's house.

Meanwhile, now that they're all gone, Mandos reaches backwards, retreating into the roots of his being beyond space, time and existence itself, and looks his Maker and his Master, the sun from which he is only a ray of light emanating, in the face.

Lord.

What, my child?

What in Eä is going on?

Normally I would tell you that whatever is going on, it is obviously something in Eä, and you had best deal with it. But that is not, in fact true.

What.

Velgarth is not my creation. It and its people are guests in my world, and they are not wholly within my power. Their ways are as strange to me as they are to you. However, I do not think that you should—or can—change them.

Okay, this would break his brain, if he had a brain. It's hard to be confused in the Allfather's presence, though.

I am not talking about Velgarth, I am talking about the thing where half of us died!

Oh. That was indeed, my doing. It's quite entertaining to see gods realize that they are, in fact, more human than they think. Wouldn't you agree?

Mandos has no possible response to this. He snaps himself back to reality. Or what passes for it, these days.

Vanyel stumbles and catches himself and instinctively reaches out with all his Othersenses. 

:- Van? VAN!: