11. Tracking Warg Riders

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~ The elves exercise and Wynne is impressed. But she doesn't look forward to another orc fight. ~


11. Tracking Warg Riders

They followed the warg-riders until late in the evening. In Wynne's eyes the ground showed no evidence at all of anyone passing and she had no idea how the elves could see the tracks, but apparently the elves' heightened senses helped them discern the slightest sign.

The trail first went further east, then south, then back west, forming a loop which would in time take them back to the Anduin again. Thranduil said these orcs must be a daring lot to come so close to the Rohan border patrols, or perhaps they were desperate.

When night fell they stopped to make camp, not wanting to risk coming upon the orcs before dawn. That would only serve as an advantage to their prey, who typically were stronger and more dangerous in darkness. Their night vision was far superior to the elves', Legolas said.

Wynne offered to prepare the evening meal and Legolas started to dig a pit for the cookfire.

"The rest of us should use the meantime to exercise," Thranduil decided.

"Good idea; we must not let our muscles get soft and weak from disuse." Galion flexed his impressive biceps.

Wynne watched him admiringly. "They don't look soft at all."

"Show-off," Legolas muttered from the fireplace.

The others went some way outside camp and were soon busy slicing the air with their swords and daggers, going through sword routines on nimble feet. It almost looked like they were dancing.

Her cooking temporarily forgotten, Wynne looked on. "Won't they spar with each other?"

"Not with sharp blades, no." Legolas put his small spade down and wiped his hands clean on the grass. "It would blunt the swords needlessly. Back home we practice with wooden replicas."

"Interesting. But here I'm forgetting my chores... this meal won't cook itself." She tore her eyes away.

"And I must make you a fire."

Legolas went over to the pack horses to fetch wood while Wynne hauled out smoked meat, hardtack crackers and a bag of dried peas, deciding she would make a filling soup.

"This was the last of the firewood." Legolas had returned with an arms load. "Tomorrow we shall have to resort to cold fare again. Back to good old lembas."

"Will you ever tire of that lembas joke? It wasn't even funny the first time."

"How come you smile, then?" His own grin turned into a grimace when he tried to strike a spark with the fire steel.

"Are you hurting?" Wynne noticed a reddish stain on his bandaged hand where an orc had bitten him the other day.

"I am fine."

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