From The Inside

27

The descent down from Dale was slow and treacherous, treacherous in the sense of the mud was very deceiving. What looked to be firm, solid ground was in fact a sinkhole. Ylva had found herself on more than one occasion sinking only to be pulled out by the scruff of her neck. She'd dangle rather helplessly from Beorn's jaws, only to be placed gently down again and then nudged along when she seemed unwilling to move.

He didn't seem to have any trouble traversing this sudden watery trampled terrain. Perhaps he was more aware and alert to where to place his feet, when glanced at Ylva it did seem that she was just mindlessly trudging along. Because that is how she was walking, trudging, head down and practically dragging herself along. It got to the point where he stopped when nearing the outskirts of what remained of Lake-town. Being on one side of the scorch and destroyed town, Beorn turned and looked to her, their pace was slowing, and it was mainly because of her. He couldn't blame her, she had, after all, done quite a bit of fighting when in comparison to him. Not that it was about scoring points. But she had all the right to be more exhausted.

Upon stopping, he watched as she literally collapsed to the ground. Trying to coax her to move didn't fair well, a half felt growl and a paw pushing him away was all that resulted from his efforts. They couldn't stop here, nightfall was slowly drawing near and Beorn had it in mind for them to travel as far from the battlefield and the Mountain as humanly possible.

Even if the battle had ended, it did not mean there weren't still enemies lurking in the shadows. Those of the dark army which hadn't been slain had surely retreated back to wherever it was that they came from. Where they came from ironically enough happened to be in the same direction as their home. Even if they did not return to Dol Guldur, many of the retreating orcs surely would have fled to the woodlands to hide amongst the thickly growing trees. They supplied enough coverage to hide the best and worst of things.

Hearing sniffing, Beorn looked down at Ylva. She pushed herself up and shook her head and looked to him. A little bit further perhaps she could manage before fulling falling to the ground and not wishing to move again until morning had come. It'd take a day or so for them to trek back to their home anyway, a few stops to rest were an obvious thing. But the less they had to stop and camp out the better. It was rather obvious neither were exactly against this, before everything that happened, they both were used to sleeping under night stars, along with hunting for their own food.

With begrudging motions, Ylva picked up walking again. She didn't get far before stopping again, every few seconds he would walk along and notice she was a few paces behind. He'd watch over his shoulder as she shuffled to his side and continue onwards. It got to the point where he lost patience with this. They weren't exactly making any progress, and the more they stopped to – whatever the faltering counted as - they were losing more of the light.

Letting out a short growl, Beorn narrowed his eyes down at her. Ylva flicked her tail in a pathetic sign of agitation before sitting down on the ground and looking to him. The two stared at each other for a few more seconds before relenting. They were both tired, turning on each other because of frayed nerves wasn't going to achieve anything. Feeling tentative hands tugging at his fur, he looked down. "I am sorry, dear heart. The more I walk, the more numb my legs become. I just can't keep walking, Beorn."

He gently placed his head against hers and nudged against her gently. With a nod backwards, he lowered himself slightly to the ground to allow her to pull herself up. Once situated amongst the mud clumped fur, she leaned her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes. Almost instantly she had drifted off to sleep, she was that exhausted.

Beorn didn't mind being alone in his trek now. At least with her on his back he could pick up the pace. His slow walk – he was careful not to wake her – slowly turned into a trot, and from then a slow jog. It was clear that Ylva was truly out for the count. It would take all of the orc army and the ruckus they made to wake her up. As the sky darkened and the first stars started to shine through, Beorn finally pulled to a stop. They – mainly he – had travelled through the surrounding woodland which bordered Lake-town.