Send a ⁂ for my muse to take a bullet (arrow) for yours.
It had been meant to be a simple hunt. There had not been reports of fell creatures trickling down from the north or the mountains for two moon cycles now and the game had returned in full to the foothills once more. The foul taint of war and dark creatures had been washed away with the change of the seasons.
It felt like the days of old, the days of her youth, when they would hunt together. They were only missing the echoing, merry laugh of the Huntsman and his favored pupil. It was too quiet without them … no, it was simply too quiet. There were no birds singing in the trees, no barks and wheezes of squirrels or the rustle of smaller game moving through the brush and branches. It was not simply the absence of booming laughter or passing snarky comments in friendly competition. It was the absence of everything natural and the sudden presence of clattering armor and snarling voices, both orc and warg alike.
She heard Huan growl and snarl beyond a stand of trees and she abandoned her blind to rush through it to his side. Even a true sprint had not been swift enough and by time she burst beyond the tree line, he was surrounded by the pair of warg and their riders. It was not so many but they were smart, they were coming at him from either side and dividing his attention.
It was not difficult to dispatch of the riders from her position. From there, Huan lunged at one with his massive jaws and the other warg was brought down with two more arrows.
From the nearest hill, more broke over the crest and descended upon them and the pair of them were caught in the melee once more. Belenwen worked her way closer to the mighty hound, providing him with cover as she could for fear of him being injured. He had been lost to the world once before and given the opportunity to return, she did not wish to see it squandered and lost for a morning hunt gone awry. However, he was a hound of Valinor and no mere canine to be faced as the warg quickly learned. In the end, a few broke from the pack and made for the hills once more.
Huan was preoccupied with a warg, the two circling one another and clashing together time and time again. Even with her aim, she was unable to find a shot that would work without putting him at risk. The orcs did not share the concern as one arrow and then another embedded themselves within the thick hide of the warg as they tried to hit their white-furred mark. Reaching for an arrow, she was met with an empty quiver and no way to hit her mark where he stood upon the hill.
Desperation took hold of her and she followed the first impulse that came to mind. It all happened in an instant: the shudder inducing crunch of a snapped neck as Huan dispatched his foe but the twang of a bowstring being released. Belenwen lurched closer, whirling to face him before she gave a less-than-graceful and unnatural jerk, pain contorting her expression.
"You forgot to mind your flank," her voice was calm and steady but there was no mistaking the dark arrow - a bodkin - that had pierced through the top of her shoulder above the collarbone. No sooner had the words escaped her than did her legs give out under her. The hissing, howling laugh of the orc fading was proof that it thought it had been successful and fled.
"I will heal from this, it is not the worst I have had," she assured Huan before he even turned to face her. Still, she braced for his reaction.
