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( ithilien ━ thethird age, 3017)
━━━━ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ━━━━
A WICKED WIND OF REVENGE CLUNG TO THE HOODED CLOAK OF THE SCOUT. She was as furious as a sandstorm, and the Gondorian weather did well to mind the foreigner's wrath. It seemed as if the Great Eye himself had reassured her secrecy, hidden from the watchful foes she had set out to destroy; those who would seek to prevent her task. Those who she was hunting.
Despite the harsh current, the forests of Ithilien were much kinder than the deserts of Harad, which she was more accustomed to. The thick grove provided ample coverage for her to follow the rangers. It had taken her three days to catch up to them, after spotting them a week prior, and despite her abilities as a renowned tracker, she had a hard time finding them. The rangers' movements are many and swift, and they knew this landscape like the back of their hands, unlike the stranger who stalked them.
The silence of Ithilien was deafening, if not for the occasional call of a loon or the ruffling of her cloak against the leaves. She didn't mind the stillness, however, and instead wished for the company of her horse, whom she had left behind in Harad. She even missed the company of her older brother, the Haradrim general who had sent her on this quest only a fortnight ago.
Most of all, she missed her sister.
She was gaining on the soldiers now; maybe even a little too close for her comfort, but she made sure to give herself some room. What had finally given them away was a rather large encampment near the bottom of a cliffside, with the remnants of a fire still barely smoking. Their heavy bootprints had littered the ground around the campsite, which was near the skeleton of an enormous Mûmakil. She had smelled their bonfire the night before, as she nearly froze to death herself. She wished for a fire, but knew better than to give her position away.
The small pack of ten moved stealthily through the hills and plateaus of the brushy region. They were horseless, but still moving with great speed. The rangers kept to the higher ground. Smart, she commended them, but it left her with scarce scouting points and a lengthy following distance . She took note of their positions and movements — how they separated from each other, but never too far away to help one another, and seemed to know exactly where they were at all times.
As a stranger to this land, however, and on her own mission, the scout noted patches of plains and meadows scattered throughout the forest that would be enough to house a great host of Haradrim. Every five fathoms or so, she would stop to smirch a tree or brush slightly off her path, marking her path for those that would follow behind. Her quest to scout ahead for her brother's army had not been her idea, but she was grateful for the opportunity to prove herself.
