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The tall elf with the blue cloak straightened and stood.
"There was only one wolf here and it was small - compared to its fellows, and so probably a scout. The others are near by."
He walked to the door of the stable and stood looking out into the dwindling light.
"Very near," he said. He stood for a moment scanning the road and the woods and hills beyond before turning back to the man and the hobbit. He looked from one to the other. "Find something sharp."
Then he stepped out, back into the evening twilight, where the air was still cool from the earlier rainstorm. He strode through the courtyard to the lawn beyond, dotted with fruit and nut trees. Beyond this was a fence, and then the road, from which a lane led through the lawn to the courtyard.
"We will meet them here, among these trees, when they attack. We could track them, but it would be foolhardy to try to fight them on their own ground in the dark."
He drew his slowly drew his sword. The blade shone uncannily bright in the falling dark as he hefted it several times, recalling its balance and its weight. He swung it in several lightening-fast arcs about him, then returned it to its sheath.
"Jims!" he called out. "Are you ready? We do not have much time."
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