He had been following the flow of the stream for several days now, staying alert for any elves patrolling the woods. The dark elf's investigation of the area where the men were captured by Legolas and the elves gave him no clue from where they had come from.
Rûdhchamion's only compensation were a few arrows that were left behind. He sat under a large tree and taking the arrows with the red feathers out, started inspecting them. He was very impressed by the craftsmanship. Thranduil’s smiths were greatly gifted, he thought. His own arrowheads were made of stone meticulously shaped to his satisfaction, nothing compared to these. He would be on the lookout for more of these.
It was almost dark and he would need a place for shelter. He could continue his journey, even through darkness, but the forest had creatures that did not like elvenkind. He had encountered a large spider once, the size of a horse – luckily it was alone. There was also the wolves that had suddenly appeared from the dark mist of night. It was therefore a habit of his to take lodgings up treetops during the night.
A sudden noise made him grab his bow beside him and turn towards the direction from whence it came.
[ March 22, 2002: Message edited by: Thalionyulma ]
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