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The scampering, scurrying creatures could be heard clacking their hideous fangs together in the darkness. They moved with precision and timing, slowly encircling their prey, and choosing those that were weakened or separated from the group as targets. They formed a great mass as they did this, creating a horrible black ocean of anguish and torment. Should they managed to bring down any of their intended prey, a terrible, brutal death awaited them. Being torn limb for limb, and hearing their own bones break as the beasts pulled them apart, would be the the unfortunate victim's end.
Morgoroth was unlucky, for he had stayed behind, to guide Jordo, and protect him from Shelob. As they fled down the corridor, Jordo had become separated, but found a defense among the other slaves and prisoners ahead, where as the Elf lagged behind, covering the escape. And now he was fully cut off, and his only shelter was a low overhang. There he perched himself, attempting concealment over overt defense. The creatures would find him eventually, but he would live for awhile at least.
Watching from this point, he could see the others finally coming together, though rather slowly. The group realized it needed to survive, and to stand together was the only option now. Yet, try as they may to unite, the creatures were far better prepared. It would take cunning, and brutal determination to see them through the hordes of the Tunnel.
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