Gurg had always worked hard to be the best orc she could be. She barely ever forgot to brush her warg before going into battle, and she always made sure his blades were sharp. Whenever she thought of dwarves, men, or elves, she felt a deep and bitter hatred. She was prepared to die if her leader asked. She only feared one thing: hobbits.

When Gurg had been just a little orcling, her mother (may she burn for all eternity) had told her stories of hobbits. She had described them to have the pointed ears of the filthy elves, to be shorter than any wretched dwarf, and to have feet larger than any man, even though they wore no shoes. She had also told her that a single hobbit could, if they wanted to, kill more orcs than any army. And that was if they felt merciful. If they didn't, her mother had told him, they could do even worse things. At that point, Gurg had asked what they could do, but her mother had sworn never to speak of it because it was so terrible.

Gurg had hoped to live her entire life without seeing a hobbit, and so, when Azog had ordered them to hunt down the group of dwarves led by Thorin Oakenshield, she had hoped that it was just a trick of the light that had made one of the Company seem smaller than the rest. It was bad enough that there was a wizard in the group; if there was a hobbit present Gurg was going to run for it. She would rather be captured by elves than face a hobbit.

So, when a small figure leapt from the fallen tree and killed Narz, Gurg had turned her warg around and fled.

"Run for your lives!" she shouted in Black Speech. "They have a hobbit! Run!"

She didn't bother looking back. If those fools wanted to mess with a hobbit, they could feel free to.