Her Bite's Worse Than Her Bark

Prologue - 3rd Person

Quick A/N: I do not own the Hobbit, it is older than I am. I only own Wolf. I do not have a good Elvish translator, so only a few phrases will be in Elvish (the rest will be italics). I also don't know Khuzdul, that will be in bold. Slow updates because Calculus is the bane of my existence. On with the story!

Wolf—as she was called by most—was on the road when Gandalf dropped by. She'd been hunting a stray Orc pack, and had stopped for the night. Her horse Nix tied close by and a small fire going, she felt quite content. That is, until Gandalf appeared, completely unannounced, as per usual. He sat himself down next to Wolf, while she looked at him strangely. They'd known each other a great many years, so Wolf knew Gandalf's ways. She knew that when Gandalf was this quiet, he wanted—or in most cases, needed—her help with some task or adventure.

"What is it that you need mellon nin(my friend)? You are uncharacteristically quiet," Wolf said, causing the wizard to shift uncomfortably.

"Well?" She continued, "Don't beat around the bush Mithrandir, spit it out. I promise I won't bite."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe, my dear," Gandalf started, earning an eyebrow-raise from Wolf, "Very well, I am hoping that you would be so kind as to join me on an adventure."

"I thought as much," Wolf said, nodding slowly, "Carry on."

"Well, the Dwarves of Erebor are going to reclaim their homeland. And well, I was—" Gandalf explained, only to be interrupted by Wolf.

"They do know that that mountain was taken by a dragon correct?" She cut in, "And, that said dragon is likely still there and very much alive?"

"That, my dear, is where you come in," Gandalf stated, "You are after all, rather experienced when it comes to dealing with dragons."

"Last time I 'dealt' with dragons," Wolf began, "it did not end very well for me. . . or for others for that matter. Unless of course, you've forgotten that."

"I have not forgotten, I assure you," Gandalf reasoned, "but I would trust no one else with such a task."

"Very well, I accept," Wolf agreed, taking the wizard only slightly by surprise.

"Thank you Wolf," Gandalf said, "Meet me in the Shire in three days time. From there, seek out the home of Bilbo Baggins. There will be a mark on the door."

"I'll be there," Wolf assured, "though I might be a little late. I've been hunting an Orc pack, and I haven't yet disposed of it."

Gandalf nodded, and just like that he was off! Wolf huffed and stood. She put out her fire and packed her things, knowing she'd have to deal with the Orcs quickly if she were to arrive at all. She tied her supplies to her horse Nix, and swung a leg up, over the dark brown, leather saddle. She rode off into the night, bow at the ready, a full quiver strapped to her waist.

The Orc camp was small, just several Orcs and a few Wargs. Wolf pulled Nix to a stop and raised her bow. She set one of her homemade, ravenfeather arrows to the bow, and drew it back to her cheek. With an exhale, she released the bowstring, her arrow soaring through space. It found its mark right between an Orc's eyes. It fell to the ground in a heap, crumpling to the earth. Before the others could make a sound, she'd loosed eight more arrows, killing five more Orcs, and three Wargs. Quick and quiet, no screams, lots of blood. This is how Wolf worked, efficient, well-executed, and deadly.

     She left the camp only after she'd carved her symbol into the chest of the camp's leader. It showed those who feared her to stay in fear, and acted as a warning to those who would spread evil in the world. She slung her bow onto her back, and rode for the Shire, only a couple hours behind schedule. (It had taken some time to find the camp, and to come up with a proper plan to dispose of it).

     Arriving in Hobbiton—after a two and a half day ride—Wolf scanned the doors. With her Elven sight, she could easily find the round green door, glowing with a blue mark. She tied Nix to the garden fence, and opened the gate. In three long strides, she stood before the door. Hearing hushed voices from inside, she realized that she'd be the last to arrive. She sighed, and knocked clearly on the door four times.