"Now what was that Andreth hovering over?" thought Bird as she laid by the fire feigning sleep. Apparently Holly was not the only one carrying secret or precious objects on this journey. Bird just hoped sincerely that whatever it was that the woman was hiding, it was not something that was being sought by anyone else.
The whole day had been an unmitigated disaster. And now here they were with three people injured, and the rest of the caravan, both people and animals, exhausted from stress and battle. Gandalf seemed to be on guard, sitting by the fire smoking his pipe and staring out into the darkness, but the rest of the party were all asleep.
Were they to go on? With two warriors injured, it seemed unlikely, unless they chose to ride while others walked. And what could be keeping the Orcs from attacking again was beyond Birdie. She looked over at the sleeping forms of Holly, Olo and Volondil and sighed. This is what came of attaching yourself to others. You were very likely to share their fate, and the old saying "safety in numbers" did not seem to be applying here.
Bird tossed and turned for a few minutes more on the hard ground, then gave it up. Standing up, she morphed into her crow form and flew into a near-by tree top. The dark, shadowy form of Bethberry's Wyrd could be seen in the next tree, and he shook his feathers and gave Birdie a glare, warning her not to even think about sharing his branch, before settling back into sleep.
Bird flexed her feet a few times, ruffled her own feathers, and with a sigh of relief, drifted off to sleep herself.
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