"The smoke addles your senses," replied Elwood, speaking directly to the Warg for once. The battle was but a day past - he cannot have travelled far. We must trust that he survived.
The Warg looked at him doubtfully. These woods are no place to be alone and tired. Even I cannot outrun things that lurk in this forest. And the men you fought swarm over eveything. It is a miracle your Dwarven companion and his party remain undiscovered.
Elwood sat, crosslegged, two paces afore the great wolf, whose hot coat steamed in the morning air. If any mere mortal would survive the night alone, 'twould be that one.
The draug bowed his head. His mind was unclear to Elwood. The Elf spoke, out loud again; "We must make haste, for our enemies shall gather and regroup. I shall hunt with thee."
The unlikely pair loped off through the branch-splintered sunlight. The forest in this part was free of the fire yet smoke hung heavy in the air and the gloom in the deepest places seemed impenetrable. A rain began to fall, as the morning awoke, steady and fine. As they were in a thickly wooded area, they remained mostly dry. The Warg rab silently, flitting in and out of Elwood's vision. The Elf moved with his inherent fluid grace, his breath silent in the cool air, depite his fatugue.
An hour or more of switching, this way and that, the Warg's nose to the ground, they found faint spore and traces of passage and the Warg sped, so that the Elf could no longer keep pace. Up ahead, some mile east, Elwood heard the music of a stream, dashing against pebbles.
[ September 16, 2002: Message edited by: Rimbaud ]
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