Fitting in ~

Part Three ~ Warg wrestling

Part ~3

(( sorry if I already mentioned the trolls ! I'm changing the storyline with the ponies a bit - XD don't hate me. Also the elvish word here is supposed to be peace but - since it's really late here - I didn't double check so it's probably wrong. XD. )

Panting, the scent of sweat in your nose and in your eyes, you ran. Your feet drummed the earth as you fought to keep as quiet as possible. Jus several short seconds ago, the company had rudely realized that a treacherous pack of wargs and orcs was upon their trail. Of course, the tethered ponies and horses had all bolted when they had caught the terrible stench. Now, following the rest of the company across the empty moors, you felt the extreme fear rush back across your veins. All hopes lied with Radagast the Browns diversion tactics and his swift paced rabbit sled.

'It's too open - even with that crazy brown wizard creating a diversion- we are sure to be spotted.' You thought as you and the rest of the dwarves hid behind a outcropping of rock. The moors echoed with the baying of hunting wargs as the open grasslands offered no hidden protection. You sprinted, pack slamming against your side as the dwarves swarmed from one spot to the next. Poor Bombur was having the hardest time. With his enormous girth, he huffed at the back of the dwarf pack and half the time his brother Bofur was pulling him to the hidden safety that the company was making with the rocks. The wind was hot and the dryness of fear sat on your tongue. Gandalf was flustered, the usually calm and cheerful wizard was gone. In fact, the whole companies demeanor seemed to have changed. The dwarves held their hands over their weapons, each having a slight snarl or grim determination upon their faces. Mistaking them for the happy companions you had had before, you were surprised to see them change so drastically. Kili and Fili from the pranksters you had come to know on the trip, to warriors. Balin into a wise herder of the group. The only one who seemed to be as frighten as you was Bilbo. Bilbo thrust his walking stick forward, propelling himself over tiny mounds and hills to keep pace with you.

"Where are you taking us to?!" Thorin demanded again from Gandalf. The dwarf king, when Gandalf turned away from him again to lead the party to the next rocky hiding spot, spat and cursed in dwarvish. His face was stony with distrust, eyes darting about the moors and over the company. You didn't know why he kept asking where they were headed, it only mattered that you kept away from the wargs and orcs.

At the sight of the strange and evil beasts something had awoken in your memories, a strange stirring of hatred and cold drenching horror. It seemed that far back in life of humanity, possibly within your own human world, these creatures had done horror on the imagination where it imbedded itself into the remaining psyche of humanity. Your feet moved too slow at the last second though as the rest of the company hopped to the next place of cover while you, distracted by the return of an ancient fear, had stood back to gaze worriedly at the orcs.

"y/n!" Ori called to you and you realized, too late - that you had missed the time gap that the company had to get to the other rocky outcrop. They were now safely behind a cropping of moorish rock.

"Awww SHIT." You hissed, hands clutching at your sides as you caught your breath again. The burning in your sides as air was greedily sucked in between your teeth. All thirteen dwarves and one little hobbit were about ten yards away, safely tucked behind a boulder. You whipped your head around, searching quickly for the wargs and Orc riders again. Their terrible presence was riveting to the mind, pulling at the instinctual fears of the mind. Hopefully they were across the valley, chasing a brown wizard and is strange rabbit sled. The howls of the pack were far off, and hope rose in your chest. Looking over at the dwarves anxious faces, you made to move and join them. You only wished to be with the company once more. Safe among their angry numbers, being be-riddled with there corse language.