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Primrose Bolger · 03-01-2005, 06:10 PM

There were four of them . . . and the closer they got, the bigger they loomed. The light was behind them as they drew close to the makeshift camp, faceless with the sun at their backs. It threw their jagged shadows before them . . . reaching out like dark wraiths . . .

Sassy’s knees shook as she watched them run with their coils of rope hung over their shoulders, their fists balled as they hastened toward the Hobbits. At their belts hung knives, she noted and two of them had large sacks looped through their belts, also. She had her little sling in her left hand and with her right hand she scrabbled through her vest pockets for what few stones she had left.

There was really no plan for those left in camp. As far as she could figure out they were just supposed to annoy the Big Folk, make them keep their attention on the Hobbits in the camp and off the three who were stealing supplies. Her own little plan, thrown together after Bingo ran off, was to jump up from behind the little rocky outcropping at the edge of the camp. Sling a few rocks at the men, then dodge away as fast as she could to somewhere they couldn’t reach her. She wouldn’t let any of them get too close . . . she was a good enough shot she could do that . . .

Two of them had run past her chasing some of her companions before she worked up the courage to put her plan in action. She scrabbled to the top of her rock and swung her loaded sling round and round, taking aim she let fly two rocks, one after another, hitting the man running past her now in the leg and in the arm.

‘I should run now,’ she thought to herself, seeing the stones had hit their mark. But he had growled and turned toward her. She could see his face, glaring at her. Sassy froze, a rabbit caught in a sudden light from a hunter’s lantern. A sudden gasp brought her to herself; she fell from her perch and scrabbled wildly to get to her feet and run . . . just run . . .

Just run! she screamed to herself.

The man she’d hit with her stones was not quick enough to catch up with her. She was going to get away. Hope gave wings to her feet as she flew from him.

But the last of the Big Folk, the one she hadn’t focused on, had seen her, too. And he angled toward her as she fled, his long legs running more rapidly than her little ones. He knocked her down, cuffing her on the side of the head hard with his coil of rope. Sassy fell and he grabbed her up roughly by her collar and stuffed her into his burlap sack. Stars and darkness swam in her head from the blow and the fall as he slung the bag over his back.

‘Got one of the little runts!’ she heard a gruff voice say before darkness took her . . .

03-01-2005, 06:10 PM	#128
Primrose Bolger Wight Join Date: Sep 2003 Location: Near Bywater Pool Posts: 196	There were four of them . . . and the closer they got, the bigger they loomed. The light was behind them as they drew close to the makeshift camp, faceless with the sun at their backs. It threw their jagged shadows before them . . . reaching out like dark wraiths . . . Sassy’s knees shook as she watched them run with their coils of rope hung over their shoulders, their fists balled as they hastened toward the Hobbits. At their belts hung knives, she noted and two of them had large sacks looped through their belts, also. She had her little sling in her left hand and with her right hand she scrabbled through her vest pockets for what few stones she had left. There was really no plan for those left in camp. As far as she could figure out they were just supposed to annoy the Big Folk, make them keep their attention on the Hobbits in the camp and off the three who were stealing supplies. Her own little plan, thrown together after Bingo ran off, was to jump up from behind the little rocky outcropping at the edge of the camp. Sling a few rocks at the men, then dodge away as fast as she could to somewhere they couldn’t reach her. She wouldn’t let any of them get too close . . . she was a good enough shot she could do that . . . Two of them had run past her chasing some of her companions before she worked up the courage to put her plan in action. She scrabbled to the top of her rock and swung her loaded sling round and round, taking aim she let fly two rocks, one after another, hitting the man running past her now in the leg and in the arm. ‘I should run now,’ she thought to herself, seeing the stones had hit their mark. But he had growled and turned toward her. She could see his face, glaring at her. Sassy froze, a rabbit caught in a sudden light from a hunter’s lantern. A sudden gasp brought her to herself; she fell from her perch and scrabbled wildly to get to her feet and run . . . just run . . . Just run! she screamed to herself. The man she’d hit with her stones was not quick enough to catch up with her. She was going to get away. Hope gave wings to her feet as she flew from him. But the last of the Big Folk, the one she hadn’t focused on, had seen her, too. And he angled toward her as she fled, his long legs running more rapidly than her little ones. He knocked her down, cuffing her on the side of the head hard with his coil of rope. Sassy fell and he grabbed her up roughly by her collar and stuffed her into his burlap sack. Stars and darkness swam in her head from the blow and the fall as he slung the bag over his back. ‘Got one of the little runts!’ she heard a gruff voice say before darkness took her . . . Last edited by Primrose Bolger; 03-02-2005 at 12:28 AM.