Gaining Speed {Lord of the Rings Crossover: Book 2}

Chapter Six

Calypso knew little of the magic which flowed through her veins. Her mother had tried her best to describe the naturally occurring phenomenon which presented in every Narnian great or small, she described it as being the lifeblood of all creatures within the realm of Narnian, from the tallest tree to the smallest field mouse. All Narnians are born with the lifeblood already rushing within them like a rippling tide, it can be used by the host in whatever manner they desire however it can not be taken by force easily.

A Narnian's magic is as important as blood, present since the moment of their birth their bodies physically cannot run without it. To be without their magic is a death sentence. Unlike the realm of Narnian which vibrated with untouched raw magic, Middle earth processed none. Alone and cut off from the magic of her homeland, trapped in Middle-earth confused with no memory as to how long she had been there, Calypso had no way of telling just how much time she had left in this strange and unforgiving land.

The Narnian's limbs felt heavier with a deeper ingrained tiredness, Calypso was older. When did that happen? She was missing something important, the uncertainties surrounding her was leaving the feline feeling on edge. As the familiar chill of tainted winter left the cheetah's body, her mind began to recall small moments in flashes, nothing of note presented however which could help lead the feline towards a common goal.

The forest of Fangorn pressed against the Narnian like a wave of impending darkness, feeling colder than it ever had done in her previous visits. Something had changed within the forest, patches of snow and ice littered the otherwise wet grass and moss covered forest floor.

The border between Middle-earth and Narnia was dangerously out of balance, the eternal winter of her homeland creeping between the cracks of the border like poison seeping from a wound.  Calypso's short hunt for food within the wood ended in surprising success despite running on only three legs, success only due to her skill and her prey's equal disadvantage and inability to blend and hide within their new snowy environment.

Her stomach filled with three large shrews Calypso returned to her patch of grass by the camp, a small hoard of two brown hares hanging from her jaws for when her hunger raised its angry head again later. Her limping strides were slow, her injured leg raised off the floor as she tried her hardest to avoid applying unnecessary pressure.

The filly was waiting a short distance from the treeline upon her arrival, the feline was pleasantly surprised to find the man searching the forest's depths with his eyes as if searching for the feline. Calypso gave a sharp chirping cry in greeting, making her presence known to the filly and the small group of men which shadowed him, the sound while greatly muffled by the food hanging from her sharp teeth still startled the company much to the feline's amusement.

The rugged man smelt strongly of horses, not a surprise given the sheer number surrounding the company, fresh hay, cotton and ash from the billowing fire added to the man's aroma. Much like the two cubs previous, the man's scent was familiar despite her lack of memory towards where she had come across it before.

He wore chainmail and thick leather armour, well taken care of and tightly wrapped around his muscular frame. His hair was shoulder length, the top held loosely off his face by a woven leather tie. He had sharp, handsome features and a little stubble beard which was darker in colour than that of his ash blond hair.

His soft blue eyes studied Calypso closely, remaining a 'safe' distance away from the feline as he did so. He had given the fabric around the cheetahs neck particular interest and was paying close attention to the sigil holding the material in place. The Narnian had tried and failed previously to remove the fabric, but to the feline annoyance her hide leg argued painfully as her wound grew irrigated at the attempt.