Catherin had only meant to rest for a moment, but the arguement she had with her mother left her mentally exhausted. By the time she woke it was dark as pitch outside, clouds that were not there during the daytime blocking even the light of what would be a three quarter moon.

"Oh, God." She said standing up. The cats would most likely all be outside, frolicking around without a cayote-based mind in their fuzzy heads. "Ohgodohgodohhod!" She ran across the room and slammed the front door which had been open all day, not wanting any cats that were in, to go out. She went to the table beside the couch and lit up a cigarette.

'Okay. First things first: Who's in already, and whom do I need to get angry at?' She did an inventory as quickly as she could manage having just woken up and the house being, although not large, not very small either. There were all kinds of nooks and crannies in which the cats could and did hide in, but she counted eight. Eight of nine. The only cat not in was the new boy named Spike, who was always outside when one did not want him to be, and was always the most thick-headed

"Okay…" she sighed out smoke. "Okay. One. I can get one." But inside she still remembered last time with Dina, the last one that left for good and seriously freaked her out. She remembered that huge hole in the ground over which she had jumped and in the morning was completely gone. There wasn't even a small dip that may have been oddly shadowed in the night. There was nothing except her shaken nerves. Now she had to go back outside in the dark? Stupid cat.

Catherin put three cigarettes in one pocket of her comfy pants and her lighter in the other. Last time it had taken her a couple hours to get Spike back in, and she wanted to be prepared. She rushed forward and stopped, looking irritatingly at the small wooden table by the door, covered with mail. The answering machine light was blinking 1…1…1…over and over again, and compulsively, Catherin pushed play.

"Cady," the voice sobbed, "it's your mom. Stan and I just had this huge fight and…and I'm not going to California. I'll be there in a few hours, I just…I just have to do something first. I'll be home. Bye."

Catherin rolled her eyes, grabbed a cheap flashlight, and went outside, slamming the door behind her. 'That F-ing cat doesn't know what he's getting himself into this time'

She had been outside for an hour and a half now and was pretty sure the damned animal was toying with her. In the dim light of her ninety nine cent flashlight, she kept spotting the flicking tip of an orange tail just as it ran just out of site once more. She stood in the small field that was once her grandmother's garden and held the flashlight high, trying to see further in the darkness. The skeletons of old pear trees swayed in a night wind, about to become a storm, and in between them she spotted two reflective eyes staring back at her.

"Got you…" she whispered, secretly hoping that was the cat and not something else, and walked on. She strode quickly through the tall grass, all the while watching the green eyes in the dark. A gale of wind blew hard from the north, and Catherin turned away, batting her short hair out of her eyes, knocking her glasses to the ground as she stepped forward into a the chasm that had silently opened up before her.

"Shit!" She screamed as she began to fall. And fall. She barely had time to think before she hit the ground and was knocked out cold in a grassy field.

Catherin awoke with a splitting headache and absolutely no idea where she was. She assumed that she was still on her property, but she could see nothing but blurred shapes and colors if it was beyond two feet in front of her. The grass was tall and ahead of her were trees. Had she wandered so far from the house that she had gone through the miniature forest in the backyard? She could not remember. She remembered trees and looking for Spike, and apparently she'd lost her glasses at some point. On her hands and knees, she squinted at the ground through the grass, looking for a pair of black frames, but could not find them.

"Fine," she said aloud. "Spare glasses here I come."

She stood up in the tall grass, and looked to either side of her: Field, more field, and trees.

"Mom had better be home, or I'm going to…call her." Driving had just never been Catherin's thing. She stressed far too easily, her mother had said. Admittedly, she was a rather anxious person, but there were just so many things to be anxious about. Besides, she'd spent the whole night outside in the dark without her glasses and she was fine. She just had to get home without getting bitten by a snake or something. 'Onward! Through the trees!' she cheered herself forward.

And on she walked, toward the forest in front of her without even a glance at the mountains behind…

Meanwhile, inside the borders of the forest, the guards of Lorien were watching this new figure approach. It was not an orc, that was plain to see; it was definitely human. The question was whether or not this human was a danger. Either way, of course, it would have to be turned away, but, if female, it may need help finding a city, and if male, it may just need to be killed. The trouble that the guards were currently facing was a question of gender. Even with their keen elven eyes they were having difficulty determining the sex of this human. If it was a male, he was very young, and so probably not a threat. If it was a female…it just didn't look female. From that, Rumil determined that it was most likely a young boy, and so would need to be turned away from the forest, but not helped in anyway, and was most likely not a threat; however if he was resistant to orders, may just need to be killed anyway. They could not risk being infiltrated by humans, particularly now with the orc hoards already defiling the borders of the elven city. So, when the mortal came within its hearing range, Rumil would tell it to leave.

"My bet is that it is female" said Rumil's watch companion, Oronar. "One never can tell with these human females."

"That is ridiculous on many levels, my friend. Why in this world or the next would a human female, disguise herself as a man only to wander to Lorien unaccompanied? And what would you bet this far from the city, anyway?"

"Rations, of course. I have an extra loaf of lambas that says that is a female. And who knows with humans. They don't allow their women to fight like we do. Perhaps she means to prove herself in some way."

"I hope for her sake, if it is a female, that you are wrong, for then we would need to treat her as male. I've never harmed a female, of any race, and I wish not to start now."

The moments passed slowly to the elves, high in their trees, waiting for Catherin to get within earshot. She walked slowly and carefully, as she could barely see. She was anticipating a deer or rabbit to flee from her footsteps, or to be attacked by a snake or a patch of burrs. The journey, home, however, was so far simple and uneventful, for which she was thankful.

"What is taking him so long? And why is he walking as if tramping through a bog? Do you think he's tetched?"

Rumil watched the human closely, thoughtfully. "I don't know why she is acting so strangely, but I think I may have an idea. I'm going to try something. Stand by. If my notion is correct, you will need to fetch the Marchwarden."

Rumil drew up his bow and an arrow from his quiver and took his time aiming. A yard in front and another yard to left, and let loose his arrow.

There was a strange whistling noise right before Catherin heard a loud popping noise from somewhere in front of her. She made a strangled scream that came out as more of a squeak as she turned quickly on her heal and fell over. She did not know what the sound was but figured that the sooner she got away from it and back home, the better. She stood up as quickly as she could, and took off in a dead run toward the trees.

"She's running right at us!" Oronar whispered with urgency in his voice.

Rumil got another arrow and shot the ground in front of the running boy, hoping it would make him stop, but instead he just made another startled noise and kept running. 'No, stop. Stop you foolish child! You cannot enter here without permission; all in Middle Earth know that!'

"Rumil, take him down!"

"She cannot see. She doesn't know."

"Then don't aim to kill, but you don't know his intention."

"Very well." Rumil took a third arrow, took aim, and let it loose. As soon as the arrow pierced the thigh of the girl –and it was made clear that it was indeed a girl—the body once running disappeared into the tall grass and immediately there was a loud, piercing scream of agony.

Catherin lay in the grass staring at the stick that had gone straight through her leg. Tears of pain streamed from her eyes as she put her hand to the wound, touching the arrow, sleek gray feathers on the end protruding from the front. "What the f*ck?" she gasped. Her heart was beating in her throat and in her head; she did not know whether she was going to be sick or pass out, whether more blood was rushing out the wound or to her head. Her breathing went from uneasy to hyperventilation, and just before everything went black, there was a rustling in the trees…