[Rimbaud]

The sun was nearing its zenith by the time Elwood, who was slowing in the thick air of the forest, saw the Warg returning through the trees, darker than shadow.

Upon that ridge yonder sent the great wolf, seeming tired, although his muscled form showed no sign.

Elwood could not discern the ridge amongst the thick rows of trees but said nothing and followed the Warg as he led, more slowly through the undergrowth.

Before long, Elwood ascertained that he was upon a slight slope and moved purposefully but quietly upwards, not wishing to disturb whoever spoke at the summit, for voices he could hear.

You make enough noise to wake a thousand wolves of the dead, spake the Warg, sounding disgusted. Elwood rerained from reply for the second time. He motioned the Warg to lay still and moved silently to a vantage point, where he might view the sandy peak of the small ridge. He saw three figures; one prone, two supine, eating. The man on the ground he could not distinguish, of the seated two, one was familiar, the other not. Sensing little danger, he whistled for the Warg - whose reply was a mindburst of incredulity, disgust and outrage at the insult - and stepped into the clearing. His hand hovered over his sword hilt, although he stood at such an angle to the trio that they could not see this.

"Hail and well met again, Thenamir of Gondor," he said cautiously, then instantly cursed himself for a fool for using the man's name out in the open.

At his approach, both seated men had gained their feet, blades out, but on seeing Elwood, Thenamir waved Volkmar down and sheathed his own.

"Master Elf," began the bearded Gondorian. "Congratulations on your survival of that night! I trust you have news of the others."

"Indeed, Master Thenamir," said Elwood, relaxing a little. The Warg had not come up to the ridge, but the Elf heard his faint breathing scant paces behind and belw him. The stranger stood slightly unsteadily, he noted, and seemed to be in some discomfort. He favoured his left leg, he noted. His attention stayed on the stranger, as Thenamir introduced him as "Volkmar, a new ally."

"Hail and well met," said the Elf reservedly, eyeing the stranger's used battleaxe and his hardened manner uncertainly.

"Likewise," said the thick-set stranger gruffly, and offered a calloused hand.

***************

Elwood sat with them, and shared some roots and fruits he had found on his search. He found himself as wary as ever of Thenamir and a little bemused by the stranger's easy grasp of the situation. The man sleeping turned out to be Ulfwine, who had appeared to have been through a furnace and back, and slept, seemingly having troubled dreams, beside them, although he woke when Elwood offered him water, and drank eagerly. The Elf saw that this man needed serious attention to his burns, but did not feel safe in this area of the forest.

After pleasantries had been carefully exchanged, Thenamir asked if Elwood knew of the whereabouts of the others. He did not mention again the battle of the fires and Elwood followed his lead.

"Some ways hence," said the Elf, gesturing behind him in no specific direction. "We can be there before nightfall, if we make good time." He could not avoid glancing at Ulfwine, lying stiffly on the ground. He wondered if they had time to treat him properly. He wanted the security of the full group first; his mind set, he advocated swift departure.

******************

Before long, they were wending their way back down the shallow ridge and into the murky green light of the dense forest. Ulfwine walked unsteadily between Thenamir and Volkmar, and seemed delirious, for he said little of any import. The Elf ensured he drank often, although they had limited water. He decided to take them on the small detour that would bring them past a slight meander of the stream, where they could replenish their supply. The Warg trailed them, but not once came within eyeshot of the men, although Elwood discerned him from time to time, flitting behind them. He wondered at the suspicion that hung heavy over him. The day lengthened.

*******************

( Post by Dwarin Thunderhammer )

Kalohern turned in surprise to Baranthol. He tried to squelch a grin as best he could but the other rider saw it anyway. He produced a small leather bag of berries and handed it to Baranthol "I gave the majority to Dwarin, I'm sorry."

"Apology not needed," Baranthol replied, eating a couple of the berries. The rider removed a handful of fruit from the bag and tossed it back to Kalohern. "Better go see if your riding companion wants some." Kalohern blushed again and ran off into the rain.

Arenia was slowly waking up beneath the eaves of the mighty oak. To his own surprise Kalohern was a tad nervous. He was very grateful to Arenia for bringing Telefax back safely. He thought her pretty and that intimidated him more than any Dunlending. He stood next to her on the grass "I-I gathered some food this morning. It's good! Try some." Kalohern stumbled over his words a little. Arenia giggled at the soaking wet boy standing in the rain. She motioned for him to sit. He gladly accepted. The ate and talked under the shelter of the great tree. Kalohern in his nervous tongue and Arenia in her broken words. The rain pattered about them gently as they talked.

================================

Dwarin silently watched the two talk. The pair laughed. They seemed carefree. Much to the contrast of his conversation with guthrin. He smiled to himself. "A boy should have interests other than conquering the world shouldn't he?" Dwarin chuckled. The dwarf stood up. "This weather is too fine to waste under a tree," he thought to himself.

He informed Haleth that he was going for a walk. The trees glittered in the rain. The forest was peaceful. Dwarin breathed the fresh scent that only rain can give. He walked for about an hour when something caught his eye. He saw a ash sapling pinned beneath the fallen stump of a much larger tree. He stood there contemplating the possibilities. Dwarin scratched his head "There's got to be a better use for this than to sit here and rot. This would make a nice tent pole but we have no tents. It would make a nice walking stick but we have no need. It would make a fine weapon but......A spear!" The thought hit him like a thunderbolt.

The Dwarf was instantly excited. The thought of actually doing something constructive appealed to him very much. He immediately set to freeing all he could from under the tree. The wood proved very stout and unyielding. This only pleased the dwarf more. Stronger wood made a better weapon and a greater challenge both of which were welcome. Dwarin looked hungrily at the wood as he freed it. He was left with a seven foot section of the perfect diameter. Dwarin was very satisfied. He decided that the spear would go to Kalohern. He produced a knife from his pack and immediately set to carving.

About an hour later Dwarin realized that the rain had let up and that he had been gone for quite some time. He hurried back to camp to find that everyone was up and making the best of the daylight. He sat down on the opposite side of the oak and resumed his little project.

[ October 30, 2002: Message edited by: Rimbaud ]