[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

"Not this day!" Ain's voice pierced the air, frenzy causing her to hit a high note. She had been lost for a moment in the fray and had had been kneeling in the brush, nursing a shallow but painful cut to her shoulder that wouldn't require any special healing she couldn't provide herself. But now, the fight was finished, thanks to Bulvard and his unstoppable power. She had been watching, astounded, as he ripped through the orcs like a machine, his falcon guiding him. But when the arrow had hit the falcon, it had affected him as well. The unknown assailent slipped quietly out of the darkness and crept towards him as he lay motionless.
"Not this day shall one so brave fall without a chance to defend himself," Ain gritted her teeth, pulling herself away from the foliage and brushing burrs off her clothing. The archer paid her no heed other than to reach towards his/her quiver. In an instant, Ain's own longbow was out, threaded with a birch arrow.
"Get thee gone!" she yelped. "Thou shalt not slay a man who is helpless, not while I can see such an act. Get thee gone, and come again when he is awake!" She drew back the arrow more.
CRASH! CRASH! Someone was running through the bushes at an impressive speed. Ain's heart leapt into her throat as she swiveled around and Gwyn leaped over a dead log into the clearing filled with orc carcasses. The unknown archer saw his chance and vanished again into the night.
Gwyn mouth opened to make a sound as she beheld the clearing: all the orcs slain, Bulvard lying unconcious, splattered with their gore, and Ain, lowering her bow, clean save a cut on her shoulder. But in a moment, she could speak again: "We must get him back to camp."
Ain nodded, but the women were immediatly faced with a dilemma: Bulvard was several heads, not to mention pounds, above them. In the end, Gwyn grabbed his wrists and Ain seized his ankles and they managed to carry him back to camp, and his falcon too, who rested on her master's chest.