[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Ajada shuddered each time she heard the clank of swordplay behind her. Her hands were protectively clutching the back of her head and neck, as she lay face-down against the forest floor. She was hidden by a large, fallen tree limb, and had scruched her body into a tight ball with her knees bent toward her chest. Any parchment the scribe still had lay strewn about in the clearing, and Ajada woefully wondered what she'd do without her materials. She had tried to fight bravely, really she had. But what could she really do with little to no fighting skills?

Ajada continued to scold herself as she waited for the battle to end. Ajada tried to pick up any of her papers that she could reach without releasing her body from it's cacoon, telling herself that master Leo would be ashamed of her actions. Not for cowering or running to the sidelines to hide; in fact, that was what Leo might have preferred in such a situation.

"A writer never leaps in on the action, but lets things occur naturally," Ajada began to recite Leo's words shakily. "A reporter must never become involved, emotionally or physically, lest they be biased or close-minded to possibilities of the future. Leo says..."

But Ajada did not continue reciting, for she noticed that all noise in the clearing had become dull, and soon there was no sound but the rustling of leaves under weary feet. Taking a risk by looking up, Ajada found to her relief that all the Easterlings had gone, but so had the big talking tree. Kalir and LinGalad were still there, but Ajada was onto their scheme and had naught to worry about so long as they did not leave her sight.

Ajada stood and began to pick up her papers, ignoring the clean-up work being done by her companions. While her companions were recuperating and tending wounds, Ajada was organizing papers and packing writing materials away. When she was finished all she had left in her hands were two pieces of parchment and a pencil that she had recovered from the dirt.

"What exactly was that all about?" Ajada demanded, ready to take down the exact words of anyone who decided to answer her (especially Kalir or LinGalad). Ajada sighed when no one answered her. "Was it all for that huge tree thing? The Ent?" At this comment a few of her companions glared at Ajada, as if ready to pounce on her. Others just rolled their eyes, some in pity and some in disgust or annoyance. Ajada wrote down each reaction.

"Well, metophorically speaking, we've gotten ourselves into some pickle!" Ajada exclaimed with an air of delayed dignity. "What, pray tell, are we going to do now, hmm?"