The Middle Earth Wonderers (The Hobbit/LOTR)

Chapter 2.

The fire crackled softly, casting shadows on our faces. Mike glanced at the sky, his brow furrowed. "Good work. We've got enough for a decent fire," he said, his voice low. "Looks like it's gonna be a cold one tonight."

I crossed my arms, letting out a sigh. "Yeah, no shit. Hopefully, it doesn't snow. We don't need that kind of luck."

Ryan crouched by the fire pit, setting up the logs he'd gathered, striking a flint to get it going. "God, I hope not," he muttered. "Cold nights like this make me miss Bree. A warm fire and a mug of ale—nothing beats that."

Mia smirked, teasing him. "You're always thinking about ale and taverns."

Ryan shot her a sideways grin, shrugging. "Can't help it. A good pint and some company? That'll lift your spirits after a day like this."

"Yeah, but out here in Middle Earth, we gotta rely on each other for warmth and company," Mike said, glancing around at all of us, his eyes softening a little. "It's not the comforts of home, but it's something."

I nodded, feeling the truth of it. "Agreed. No better place than being with friends."

"Exactly," Mike added, a bit of optimism creeping into his voice. "We've been through a lot together. That's worth more than gold or gems."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Mike, don't get all sentimental on us."

Mike laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just saying. We've made it this far, haven't we?"

Jack piped up from his spot near the fire, grinning. "Come on, Mike, we're not here for a group therapy session. We're here to kick Orc ass and get rich."

Hunter chuckled, strumming lightly on his lute. "Hey, we're allowed to care about each other in between the ass-kicking, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Jack said, waving his hand. "Just don't expect me to start reciting poetry by the fire anytime soon."

Ryan laughed, jabbing at him. "You? Reciting poetry? We'd be doomed. Your idea of a love poem would be about decapitating Orcs."

Lulu giggled softly, chiming in. "Oh, don't underestimate Jack. Who knows, maybe he's got some hidden poetic talent."

Mike snorted, leaning back. "The day Jack starts reciting sonnets is the day pigs fly."

Jack chuckled, pretending to be offended. "Hey, I'm a man of many talents. Maybe I've got some Shakespeare buried deep in there."

Ava snickered. "I'd love to see that. Jack reciting Shakespeare while we're knee-deep in Orcs. That'll scare them off."

I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "Honestly, it scares me just thinking about it."

Mike, still smiling, waved the conversation away. "Alright, enough. We don't need Jack wooing Orcs with sonnets. Speaking of which, I've still got some rabbits and salmon I caught earlier. We can cook 'em up."

My stomach growled at the thought. "Finally, some real food," I muttered, watching as Mike started preparing the rabbits and fish.

The night settled in around us, quiet except for the crackle of the fire. Hunter started plucking a soft melody on his lute, the notes echoing through the trees. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the music relax me. It was peaceful... until I realized how far that sound could travel.

I sat up quickly. "Hunter, careful with that. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention."

Hunter froze, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Oh, right. Sorry," he whispered, looking a bit embarrassed.

Mike shot him a wary glance. "Yeah, that's great, Hunter. Now we've probably broadcasted our location to half the damn forest."

It was too quiet now. Even Ava was on edge, her eyes scanning the tree line. I strained my ears, listening for anything—then I heard it.

A twig snapped.

Everyone stiffened. "What was that?" Hunter whispered, his voice shaky.

We didn't get a chance to answer. Out of nowhere, a massive Warg burst into the clearing, snarling and snapping. The sound that escaped my mouth wasn't exactly heroic. "Shit!"

I leapt to my feet, fumbling for my weapon. "Dammit, Hunter, you probably just led the whole pack of Wargs and Orcs right to us!"

"I-I didn't mean to!" Hunter stammered, grabbing his lute like it could somehow save him. "I just wanted to play some music!"

"Lulu, your horn!" I shouted, pointing to the signal horn lying on the ground. "We need help!"

Lulu scrambled for it, her hands shaking as she raised it to her lips. The sharp, loud sound of the horn pierced the air, sending a chill down my spine.

In the distance, Thorin and his company of dwarves heard the signal. "What the hell was that?" Gloin asked, his voice tense. "Doesn't sound good," Dwalin muttered, hand on his axe.

Back at camp, the Warg growled, its eyes darting around, confused by the sudden noise. It crouched, ready to pounce.

"Get your weapons!" Mike shouted, his sword already drawn. "We've got company, and they're not here for dinner!"

I gritted my teeth, blocking a Warg's swipe with my sword. "How long until help gets here?!"

Lulu, panic in her voice, swung her staff as best she could. "I don't know! Just hold them off until they do!"