I've had this idea in the back of my mind for ages now and thought, no better time to write it up and post it than the present. So here it is. I hope you enjoy the weirdness my imagination produces. And there are some footnotes of the bottom of this chapter just for reference. I've uploaded the first six chapters in bulk, and I might do that every time I update the story, just so there's more to look forward too ;)

Faolan* sat on a low branch of a tall ash tree, not far from her tribe's territorial boundaries. It was her turn to be the look-out on their Northern borders and it wasn't her particularly favourite job in the world. She preferred the more active duties like hunting and tracking, which required her to use both her brain and body, although look-out duty still had one advantage; it allowed Faolan time alone, time to think and reflect upon things, while keeping alert for any sight, sound or scent of danger.

Faolan and her tribe were a part of a race that many of the people of Middle-Earth had not heard of, or if they had, believed to have faded into a mere myth. The race originated from the evil intent of the Dark Lord Sauron. It was said that, among other titles, Sauron was known as the master of werewolves and that he could take the form of these creatures. He intended to create servants who, like him, could take wolf forms that could track and assassinate the particularly elusive enemies of his. As a result of magic and crossbreeding, Sauron's servant assassins became a new evil race of Middle-Earth. Though small in stature, the Vargkyn or wolf-kin as they were known as, were stealthy and quick on their feet and relatively strong in battle, and of course could shift into wolf form at will. In their Man-like form, the Vargkyn boasted the ears, eyes and tail of a wolf along with other wolf-like attributes; they have what can be considered a mane of fur running from down the back of the neck to between the Vargkyn's shoulders, which bristles when aggressive; claws on their hands and feet in place of nails and superior senses. In these forms, they wore simple clothes for ease of travel leaned towards neutral and dark colours to help them blend in with their surroundings which the Vargkyn still use nowadays for the same reasons. Unlike many other races, the females did not wear feminine clothes but dressed like the males, demonstrating equality of men and women in wolf-kin society. The Vargkyn served the Dark Lord well for a time, until one day the wolf-kin turned on their master, expelling themselves from his service. With that, the Vargkyn disbanded across Middle-Earth settling in tribes or packs in the Wild, avoiding much contact with other races, which lead to the belief that they were extinct. The wild instincts of the wolf enabled them to thrive successfully in the isolated places while they also possessed the advanced minds to think, be creative and make decisions. As years passed, the allegiance that the Vargkyn held with Sauron was eventually forgotten whether deliberately or not, and the Vargkyn in recent years were reluctant to discuss the evil of their ancestors, but were more than content to ignore the world outside of their own tribes.

Faolan, half way through her second decade, was fourth in female rank in her tribe. Faolan wasn't the name given to her at birth but the name she chose for herself, as she preferred its sound over that of her birth name, Faoiltiama**. Much of Vargkyn society reflects that of the wolves', with a male and female leader and their subordinates below them. One could excel in rank when challenging their superior and winning or if a Vargkyn becomes unable to hold their current rank for whatever reason and all those below them move up. The children or pups of the tribe don't enter the hierarchy until they come of age, but until then, they have a hierarchy amongst themselves. Everyone except the leaders took it in turns to perform particular duties rather than being assigned to a particular role which they were especially good at. The leaders took complete charge over the two most important tasks; hunting and defence.

The tribe's territory covered much of the forest they inhabited and a small area around it up to the river than flowed south. Occasionally, a look-out may spot a stranger from further west. Hobbits they were called. They were about the same size as the Vargkyn and had curly hair, pointed ears and hairy feet which were always bare. The Vargkyn became used to them as they posed no threat to them, most likely because the Vargkyn were elusive and the Hobbits were oblivious to their presence. Faolan found these creatures interesting and at times when she was free, she'd wonder out of the territory and travel west, watching the Hobbits from afar, hidden in the top most branches of the ancient trees, absorbing their traditions and culture. The tribe leaders, her parents, didn't much like Faolan's trips away but as long as she didn't bring danger to the rest of them, they were prepared to put up with it. Being instinctively secretive and elusive, Faolan never attracted unwanted attention. One night the Hobbits were holding some kind special event that Faolan had great pleasure in watching. They had fireworks, music, dancing and a lot of ale. The upbeat mood of it all was so contagious that Faolan had to fight the urge to join in with the party. The friendly and happy-go-lucky spirits of the Hobbits was one thing that Faolan envied about them; they didn't take life too seriously and liked to be sociable and have fun, not like Faolan's pack that dismissed her jokes and frowned upon the playful and fun-loving side of her. She might have been considered an adult Vargkyn, capable of taking her role seriously, but at heart she was still the pup that she was in her younger years and always will be. It wasn't that she didn't like life in her tribe; she loved the nights when the pack would come together and howl songs of the Vargkyn and when their elders would tell them stories of Elves, Men, Dwarves and Wizards.

Evening had fallen as the forest grew darker, but that would not prevent Faolan from performing her duties – her wolf eyes could see as well in darkness as they could in daylight. She licked her lips at the thought of food that the hunters will soon return with, wagged her tail in excitement of the old she-Varg's story of the Wood-elves – one of her favourites. As well as hunting the forest animals for food, the Vargkyn live off the land and eat various herbs as part of their diet, and on occasion, taking vegetables from local farmers, much to the farmer's displeasure. There was a time when Faolan and her sister were nearly torn apart by the farmer's dogs after pulling up some of his carrots; they didn't go back there for a long time afterwards.

Faolan was abruptly awoken from her daydream by a distance shriek that pierced her sensitive ears. She bolted upright, clutching her silver birch bow tightly, senses on high alert. Never before had she heard such a horrific sound, Faolan couldn't tell if it was of someone in agony or the call of some dark creature. She pulled an arrow from the quiver slung over her back and attached it to the bow string, ready to fire if she needed to. As well as a bow, Faolan also possessed a short sword abandoned in the forest. She decided she'd keep it since it was a perfectly good weapon; not knowing much about swords Faolan wasn't too sure if it was any good, but as long as it was sharp and pointy, it'll do just fine. The Vargkyn didn't often use swords much, but kept them handy in case a group of Orcs found them. Combat was like a second nature to them, given their origins.

The forest fell silent again, save for the rustling of mice in the leaf litter. Faolan scented the air. There was no scent unknown to her and she relaxed, assured that whatever made that sound had passed. What kind of creature could make such a chilling sound? Faolan leaned back against the tree, pondering it for a fair few minutes when she caught a familiar scent on the evening breeze. It was not of her kin bringing food for her as she had hoped but still a scent she had picked up many times before; Hobbit scent. The scent was far too strong for there to be just one, there must have been many of them. Faolan searched through the darkness and spotted the little shapes of a group of four running between the trees. They seemed rather panicked. Something was amiss here; first the shriek, then four frightened Hobbits. As the group passed her look-out post, Faolan pulled back the string on her bow and called from the branch, "Stop right there, gentlemen!" If there was trouble in these parts, she and her tribe will know about it. The lead Hobbit stopped dead in his tracks, the other three bumping into him. They glanced around the shadows, unable to pin point where the command came from until they spotted Faolan's blazing gold eyes and the pointed arrow.

Pronunciations and meanings:

Pronunciations of these names seem to vary. The 'fao' is pronounced as either 'feh' or 'fway', but I don't speak Gaelic so I'll let you say it how like, or if know better than I do, please do tell me the correct pronunciations.

*Faolan – little wolf - (Fwail-ahn) or (feh-lahn)

**Faoiltiama – wolf lady - (Fway-o-ti-ah-ma) or (fay-o-ti-ah-ma)