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Owacyn would have cried out in pain if he had been able to take air into his lungs and then expel it again with any degree of regularity. He felt like he'd broken every rib in his chest, and he slumped down against the tree. He drifted into unconciousness, dreaming the same dream he'd dreampt back at the feast at Rivendell. He awoke with as much of a start as his broken body could manage and he saw Arathorn above him, cradling his head in his hands. "This is no time to be sleeping, Owacyn." he tried to sound as formal as possible, but his "Yes sir!" was laced with blood which he coughed onto Arathorn's armour. As he looked up, he saw the massive beast behind them raise its club menacingly. "Watch out!" he spat out with still more blood. He wasn't quick enough. He watcher in subdued horror as Arathorn was propelled into the sky by the blast of air. He saw him try to grab a branch, but it snapped in his hands and he landed on his head next to Owacyn. Owacyn swore as loudly as he could. Arathorn was still breathing, but it was erratic.
He looked up again to see the troll advancing on him, but then to see one of the brothers, he could not tell which through his misty eyes, slay it with extraordinary precision. He heard someone say "Check Owacyn". As two fingers were placed on his neck he coughed more blood onto his chest. "He's alive!" came the relieved reply. "You're damn right I'm alive!" he spat out. "You don't think I'd go dying on you do you?". Elrohir smiled warmly as he saw Owacyn pushing himself up using the tree. He regained his feet slowly and painfully, and even when he was up he nearly fell as he let go of the tree.
"You'd better stay out of the fighting..." Elrohir whispered into his ear. Owacyn nodded appreciatively and started to limp towards the camp. A cry caught his attention as he moved and he turned his head to see Elrohir knocked over by a troll with a vast mace. Elrohir was clearly in pain, clutching his arm in a fetal position. Owacyn grimly took his boww off his back. It was nearly ruined, but the string remained intact. Slowly he put an arrow to the string, drawing it back with great effort to his cheek. Letting it fly he saw it leave the bow completely before the bow snapped under the released tension. The arrow flew into the trolls throat and it gurgled disgustingly before starting to sway. Elrohir managed to roll out of the way of the falling troll just before it would have crushed him.
He stood up, clutching his arm, which was bloodied, and walked over to Owacyn, his sword trailing along the ground. He smiled and slapped Owacyn on the shoulder. He coughed again. Smiling he drew another arrow...
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