He wasn't surprised that surprised, but it annoyed him nonetheless.
He sighed. The forest was silent, the only sound that accompanied him in the search for his cousin was the thump of snow falling from the trees. He was tired, and ready to call it a day. But Maedhros had disappeared yet again. The sun was setting, and cast shadows through the trees that lay dark stripes over Fingon as he passed through them silently. He looked up as a group of birds flew fearfully from a bush and into the sky. He looked around, and saw no evidence of Maedhros. He groaned and tucked a braid behind his ear. He'd broken his bow just after they separated, and he'd thrown it in the river. It had been poor luck, anyway.
He felt suddenly alert, and turned around to check behind him for Maedhros. There was no sign of him, but his instincts were electric. Something was wrong. His heart pounded fearfully in his chest, and he spun around again, his grey eyes wide in their search. A stick snapped. He saw a brown figure peer from behind a tree, and he gasped silently. He began his slow, steady departure from the area, and consciously reached out for Maedhros, to no avail. The wolf started forward, its body low and ready to strike. Fingon began to back up faster, and suddenly his hair was in his face. He cried out, trying to pull his braid from the branch it was snagged on. The wolf was upon him, and he swung his sword blindly, tearing his hair from the branch. The branch finally snapped, and before Fingon could regain his bearings the wolf lunged with a growl, biting his hand. With a cry, Fingon dropped his sword. With a cry the wolf fell dead, and Fingon's head snapped toward the source. Maedhros' hooded form stood in the distance, his sword wedged in the ribcage of the beast.
"This is your fault!" Fingon cried accusingly, staring at the blood pooling around the dog.
Maedhros approached him silently, and put his hood down. His waved auburn hair blew from his face in the bitter wind, revealing his smirk. "What isn't?"
Fingon stared at him, his chest heaving. A smirk soon appeared on his face too. "That was not my finest moment."
"I should say not, I knew those braids were dangerous."
Fingon laughed and threw some snow teasingly into Maedhros' hood. He then bent down to wash the blood from his hand with snow. It stung and the small ice chips irritated the wound, but the cold made the pain numb. Maedhros pulled a bandage roll from his bag and tried to wrap Fingon's hand in it, to no avail. He handed the bandage to Fingon, and he wrapped it himself.
Maedhros looked slightly defeated, and even shot his severed limb a glare. "Can we go home now?"
Maedhros smiled, and hefted the wolf over his shoulder "before you get yourself killed? Sure."