Archim backed away from his siblings as soon as the words started flying. Heated words, he knew, often led to hard blows. He circled out a little further, on foot, looking for signs of the fugitives’ passing, choosing to range up a little further north, rather than the westward tack his brothers had been pushing them in.
‘Hey! Look here!’ he yelled, coming back to within earshot of the other three. I may have found something.’
The others followed him a short way and gathered round a slim clue. There in a small clearing were some green leafed bushes which looked as if something had been grazing on them. The ground was hard and rocky, affording no chance for hoof prints – but just north of the clearing under the trees were two fresh sets of large hoof prints leading north, which crossed a small section of soft forest loam then petered out once again when the rocky terrain resumed.
‘Perhaps they’re heading to Fangorn to hide, or even into the Wold. There should be more tracks we should see, but here at least is something . . .’
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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