Starting Anew

Spring Comes a-Howling

"I think your hair is certainly fine enough to wear the style well. Remember how to do it though, and you can plait it for yourself from now on."

Nerwen rounded the corner, her arms laden with damp quilts fresh from washing. Her own dark hair was coming out of its braid in haphazard wisps. "Less time spent worrying about your looks and more time spent learning how to run your own household will give you more to be proud about when you grow up, Gelwin." The woman remarked, her long stride carrying her smoothly past despite her dripping burden.

"Speaking of which..." A melodic voice sounded behind Legolas, and he turned to find Elrohir's smirk and a long pitch-brush awaiting him. "I hope you don't mind the smell of tar, ernil-nin."

The only reason Legolas hadn't cuffed Elrohir for addressing him as 'my prince' in front of the entire village was because the Peredhil had done it in Sindarin. He certainly didn't feel very princely about ten minutes later, up on Daernon's roof slathering the thatch with the sticky black substance that would waterproof it. Elladan and Elrohir seemed to have conveniently disappeared. When Legolas saw the twins joining in with the women hanging up washed laundry, he resisted the urge to walk over to the edge of the roof and dump a bucket of tar on their shiny black heads.

A howl sounded out, coarse above the treetops. Everyone froze in what they were doing, pitch brushes in hand and heads cocked to listen. They all knew the sound of a wolf; plaintive and pure as the moon at night. This was no such creature; the Dunedain knew just as well the hunting howl of a warg.

Legolas was dropping down off the roof before the echo had died away. The other men followed suit, the younger ones chancing the same drop as the elf with the older ones shimmying down the ladder. They all wore simple tunics and breeches for work, not a piece of armor nor weapon among them. By the time Strider called the rangers together in the square two minutes later though they all had their swords, bows and knives in hand.

"Beringil, take a party of six and follow the game trail. I want you at the mouth of the valley ready to cut off any sort of attempt at a retreat." Strider spoke with collected authority, his eyes clear and grim as he strapped on his sword belt. The older ranger nodded sharply and departed with no hesitation.

"Andris, keep back a dozen of the younger rangers here at the edge of the village. You're our failsafe; nothing gets past you. Understood?"

Legolas could easily see the brief flash of wounded pride in the tall youth's green eyes. Young warriors did not like to be kept back out of a possible fight. Still Andris acknowledged his captain's command and called out a group of other young men to join him at the grassy hill that stood between the village and the main valley pass.

Strider jerked his fingerless gloves on at the last and shouted to the rest of the rangers. "You all come with me. Where there is a warg, there is a pack." With that he plunged into the dripping trails of the forest, Legolas and the rest of the Dunedain rangers close behind.

A swinging braid caught his eye in the underbrush in front of him, and for a moment Legolas caught his breath in the back of his throat. The auburn -headed woman bounded with the rangers, as lithe and quick as a deer. She reminded him of Tauriel, if a bit darker in coloration, and Legolas was almost unsurprised to realize that the Dunedain rangers could also count women among their ranks. Humans were not all quite as different from his own people as he had thought. He imagined that Tauriel would have been pleased to meet her counterpart who ran alongside the men of Fornost with ease.

Another howl sounded, this time much closer than it had been in the village. An answering chorus confirmed that this was indeed a warg pack, well within the patrolled boundaries of the valley. Legolas counted eight at least, judging by the growing din. No doubt the invaders had scented their approach already. They were upwind, but there was little help for that. With Strider in the lead, the rangers moved with deadly haste to intercept the foul creatures. What they did not know yet was whether orcs were to be found as riders, or if this was a wild pack come down from the north.

Stopping abruptly, Strider signaled with quick gestures to the rangers. Immediately a number of them began to shimmy up the trees surrounding the small glen, bows and quivers thumping on their backs. Legolas considered the option, but decided against following suit. He was quick enough with his bow that he was reasonably confident in entering a ground skirmish using it. Ducking into the brush along with Strider, he glimpsed Elladan and Elrohir only briefly before they too vanished into the damp forest. Within seconds the entire squad of rangers had disappeared in plain sight, awaiting their prey...

Strider had charted their course well. Within a minute they could all hear the crashing that heralded the passage of large paws. No doubt the wargs could smell them, but if they could be kept uncertain of the rangers' exact location until the last possible moment so much the better.

The first beast exploded into the glen in a shower of dead branches, slavering mightily at the jaws. Its scrawny ribs showed clearly beneath its fur, and its yellow eyes burned with ferocious hunger. Three others were fast on its tail, equally emaciated. Legolas would have been tempted to feel pity for the creatures, if their hunger weren't so obviously driving them to hunt the village.

An arrow came whizzing down out of one of the trees. Thin, fox-faced Asvard was an excellent shot if somewhat overzealous. The shot struck the lead warg in the shoulder, where it lodged somewhat harmlessly in the shoulder blade. It was tempting to curse; an inch higher and it would have been a lethal wound.

Knowing they had found their quarry, the wargs burst into a foaming, slavering nightmare with teeth. With howls that rated fairly high on the crazed scale even for these foul beasts, they leapt at the brush anywhere where they thought they might find a ranger.

Legolas stood and loosed an arrow, the twang of his bowstring a familiar tune. His shot hit the mark, striking a warg squarely between the eyes. The bony creature fell over like a boned fish, and Legolas danced forward already seeking another target. More howls erupted from the forest nearby, suggesting these four were only just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

The winter had been harsh, small wonder the carnivores were now being driven to hunt. What separated wargs from other creatures of the wilds though was their propensity to hunt humans without fear. That, and their tendency to allow orcs to ride them when it suited both parties' purposes for mutual foulness. Wargs were not intelligent, but they had their own manner of cruel awareness.

Notching another arrow to the string, Legolas drew it back to his ear and sighted quickly along the shaft. One of the only drawbacks to fighting alongside other elves (besides those who were trained to work together within a realm) was how quickly they moved. One moment Elladan was dropping out a tree across the glen, the next he was perilously close to Legolas's line of fire. Choosing a safer target, Legolas shot and killed a warg which was trying to claw its way up the mottled bark to Daernon's perch.

"Legolas, mind your flank!" Asvard shouted from his tree-top vantage point.

A smaller warg, more easily missed in the skirmishing had managed to get around behind the attack. It was close enough for Legolas to smell the stench that rolled off its tatty hide. This was far closer than he usually preferred to use a bow. There was no help for it though; the warg had already coiled on its haunches and sprung. Loading an arrow in record time, Legolas angled his shot upward at the warg as it leapt at him and loosed the string.

oOo