Chapter 19 - Through The Flames

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    "Out of the frying pan..." Thorin whispered in fear.

"And into the fire," Gandalf finished with urgency. "Run. Run!"

Without wasting a precious moment, they sprinted forth in the opposite direction of the encroaching Wargs. Anaynah dashed down the rugged mountainside, the treacherous path tested her agility and balance. The steep slopes threatened to send her tumbling, but she pressed on, fueled by the impending danger closing in.

Her instincts kicked in, and she swiftly evaded a Warg's attempted ambush, causing the creature to stumble and fall. With swift precision, she unslung her bow, notching an arrow in one fluid motion and releasing it straight into the beast's eye. As she rose to her feet, she realized the path ahead was dwindling, inducing a surge of panic within her.

"Up into the trees, all of you!" Anaynah turned her gaze to Gandalf, who urgently implored the Company. "Come on! Climb!"

"Bilbo!" Anaynah vowed not to repeat her mistake of losing sight of their burglar. To her dismay, Bilbo lagged, struggling to retrieve his weapon from a fallen Warg's corpse. "Hurry!"

Bilbo, finally freeing his blade from the Wargs skull, sprinted towards Anaynah, who reached out her arm to receive him. With a powerful swing, she propelled his diminutive form up into the safety of the tree, and just in the nick of time. Anaynah swiftly followed, gracefully ascending the branches and assisting Bilbo in climbing higher, away from the imminent danger below.

For a fleeting moment, it seemed they had found respite. Perched on the branch, Anaynah surveyed the scene below, where the patient Wargs awaited. But their tranquillity was shattered when their leader revealed himself. Mounted upon a white Warg, a towering Orc, larger than his kin, emerged. His presence sent shivers down their spines, for there was no mistaking his ominous aura.

"Azog?" Thorin gasped in disbelief, his voice a blend of fear and fury, as the one who had butchered his father and ancestors stood before them, undeniably alive.

"Do you smell it?" the repulsive creature sniffed the air. "The scent of fear. I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin, son of Thrain." The chilling words of the Black Speech of Mordor left no room for doubt.

"It cannot be," Thorin whispered, still reeling from the shock of encountering his ancient foe.

"That one is mine," Azog declared, raising his weapon towards Thorin before redirecting his gaze to Anaynah. "Bring me the Dovahkin, and kill the others!"

Anaynah's heart raced as the tree beneath her trembled violently. The Wargs, under their master's command, lunged at the trees, causing chaos and terror to fill the air. The Dwarves' cries of fear echoed around them as the Wargs relentlessly tore at the wood, just out of their reach. Claws dug into the bark, and teeth gnawed at the branches, snapping them to the ground. Anaynah struggled to maintain her grip on the trembling tree, the situation growing more precarious by the moment.

"Drink their blood!" the chilling command rang out, intensifying the sense of impending danger.

Unable to withstand the onslaught, the tree beneath Anaynah finally gave way. With a powerful force, it toppled forward, colliding with the tree in front of it. In a split-second decision, Anaynah propelled herself forward, managing to grab onto a branch, as did the others. However, the impact from the falling tree also uprooted the second one, setting off a chain reaction. The Company desperately jumped from one falling tree to another, the domino effect threatening to consume them.

At long last, Anaynah leapt onto the last tree, perched precariously at the edge of the cliff. The entire Company clung on for dear life, their legs dangling over the abyss, struggling to find a secure grip. With all her strength, Anaynah pushed her weight onto her chest, using her forearms to reach for a branch above, desperately seeking stability.

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