Jaheira frustratedly sharpened her tools for lockpicking, despite the fact that it had been weeks since they had been used. There was not much else to do in the foresaken spot Vlad had led them to. It was Snyd's watch, but Jaheira had woken when Vlad had been taken from camp by Khalad. Not able to get back to sleep, Jaheira had taken a seat next to Snyd sitting and leaning against one of the many trees in the camp area. Snyd had already fallen asleep, but as long as Vlad did not catch him, he would be fine.
Jaheira was dully putting away her tools when Vlad came storming back into camp with Khalad and Fidrohir behind him carrying something along with them. Jaheira yawned wearily, slid her tools away, and nudged Snyd with her elbow.
"Wake up, Snyd. Unless you want to die at Vlad's hand. Besides, it's almost daylight anyway..." Jaheira whispered lowly, and Snyd blinked slowly and blearily. He stretched in the shadows of the night, before Vlad crouched quietly next to him to see if he was still awake.
"What've you brought us this time, Vlad?" Snyd grumbled, trying to see what Khalad and Fidrohir carried with them. They dropped their burden roughly near the dying fire of the camp, and returned to where Vlad was crouched. Jaheira yawned again, eyeing what looked to be some sort of human by the fire.
"An elf. Just one, and a warrior by the looks of it," said Vlad evilly. Snyd had a questioning look upon his face, as did Jaheira. Why would an elf be alone? Why would Vlad bring it to camp? Just one elf couldn't have been such a threat that they needed to hold it captive!
"A lone elf? Vlad," Jaheira reiterated, shaking her head slowly and defiantly. What was he thinking this time? Not for the first time Jaheira began to think that Vlad had gone mad, but then again, Vlad always turned out to be right about such things. "You know we don't have enough food to care for anyone else. Not to mention he looks pretty dead already to me..."
"He will be dead if someone doesn't look after his wounds. He's barely concious, and he's got a bunch of gashes," Fidrohir added, and Khalad nodded agreement. Jaheira sighed, and crawled away from her spot by the tree to go and find the small pack of healing mixtures and bandages. Then she went over to the fire where the elf was crumpled on the ground, breath shallow and slow.
He's a handsome elf, Jaheira thought as she examined his cuts and gashes. She had rarely chanced to see a live elf, for Vlad always had anything that came too close to camp killed. The elf warrior flinched and winced subconciously as Jaheira put medicines to protect from infection on his open wounds. Most of his wounds were simple cuts or slightly deep slices of skin, but Jaheira could not tell if it was from self-infliction or not. As she dressed his wounds with the bandages and cloth she had in the pack, the elf grabbed Jaheira's wrist involuntarily.
"Arthain!" the man whispered softly, and Jaheira lifted a brow. Who was Arthain? Jaheira dismissed the question, knowing Vlad would take care of it when he questioned the elf.
"What should we do with him now?" Jaheira called to any listening, keeping her cold grey eyes on the elf writhing in pain before her.
[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]
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...Come down now, they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away - Come down now! But we'll stay.
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