Okay, new chapter! Gah, I love writing this story! The Lost Elfling can only be a close second compared to this one, for me. Thank you to anyone who had already read this story and likes it! Please, review and give me your thoughts on it!
The sun moved slowly over the trees and peered into the campsite. The remains of a fire were hot, red embers and charred wood that had eventually lost its heat. The door to the tent was zipped, the shallow breathing of the two people, cub, and pup was the only thing that could be heard. They had stayed up late last night, securing the camp and making sure that no animals were around. The cub and pup had ate some of the squirrel they had captured, drinking from a stream that split off from the river.
There was a movement in the tent. The cub and pup had slept curled next to Sam, not wishing to move from her side. But now they were wriggling and jumping around, mewling and growling. Sam's bleary eyes opened slowly, as did Sierra's, but a smile was placed upon her face as the cub and pup began to lick her face. She laughed happily, while Sierra just laughed at the interactions. The four got up slowly, moving out of the tent one at a time. Sam slipped the bag back onto her back after draping the cloak on herself, clipping it together with a leaf brooch. She then strapped the quiver over it and both knives were soon placed once more in their respectable places. Sierra followed the same suit, except her gun was placed into her holster and the knives were strapped both to her hip.
"What did you decide to name them?" Sierra asked, testing her voice. Her throat was scratchy from lack of water while she slept, so she drank from her water bottle and ate a handful of trail mix. Sam did the same, and gave the cub and pup some leftover meat they had placed into another bag. They ate quickly, gobbling down as much as they could.
"I'm thinking Ragnar for the cub and Valda for the pup. Ready to go hunting?" Sam answered, pulling of her bow and starting for the forest once more. The tent and fire would be fine, for they would return at dusk once more. Sierra nodded, and that concluded their morning ritual. This is how they spent most mornings when they went camping- quiet and to the point. Later in the day, that is when they would speak and socialize. But in the morning, they both took the time to appreciate the beauty of the woods. Even the Ragnar with his tawny coat seemed to glow and Valda looked fierce with her sleek black and gold coat. They both blended with the brush, but both Sam and Sierra could pick them out due to the fact they never strayed far from Sam. Trotting loyally by her feet, they scouted the landscape and looked for danger at even their young age.
For multiple hours Sam and Sierra were hunting, checking previous traps and shooting down squirrels and rabbits. All the prey was placed into an insulated leather bag, one that would hold cool air rather than trap the heat. But when it was nearly two in the afternoon when they heard the noise. Ragnar and Valda yelped at Sam's feet, only quieting when she looked in the direction of the noise. But, what she saw horrified her. In the distance, Sam could see oddly misshapen wolves. And behind them, misshapen monsters. Quietly, Sam put the arrow back and took off her pack. She put Ragnar and Valda in quietly, making sure that the bag was only zipped halfway. The bag of prey was left on the ground, in hopes of leading the wolves away. Sierra saw what Sam was doing, but when the noise got slightly louder, she paled at what she saw.
"What the hell are those things?" Sierra asked, her voice barely a whisper. Horror slid behind the mask of adrenaline, the only thing Sam and Sierra knew at that moment. Sam jumped up, grabbing onto a tree branch and swinging herself into the tree. Sierra followed suit, knowing immediately what Sam was going to do.
"I don't know, but I'm not going to stick around to find out. We're going to run in the trees for now. Did you leave anything at the camp?" Sam asked, looking around wildly. The monsters were getting closer, but Sam didn't dare allow her draw her bow in fear of being discovered. Sierra shook her head, and that's when they were off. Both Ragnar and Valda curled as far into the bag as they could, not wishing to fall out. Thankfully, Sam had packed light- just enough to go camping for three days. Sierra had packed slightly heavier, bringing the tent and tarp. But both packs were fairly light, and allowed them to run through the trees with stealth and put distance between the things, that seemed to be after them.
For how long Sam and Sierra ran, neither knew. But they didn't grow tired, knowing that they moment they stopped the monsters would catch their scent and start running faster. They continued running down the length of the branches, jumping when one began to bend. Sierra stopped for a second, and climbed higher. Sam followed close by, jumping to the next tree. It was only when they stopped climbing that they realized they could look over the forest. The trampling of the monsters could be heard even better, and seen as the trees shook. Thankfully, they were rather far away and Sam allowed herself a moment to rest. Ragnar and Valda mewed a thank you, for they had been bounced around quite a bit.
"Sam, look over there! A clearing with men and women. They seem to be armed, but from what I can tell, the women are as well. It doesn't seem to be dangerous, just another hunters camp. Maybe we can go to request help?" Sierra suggested, knowing what she suggest went against every single lesson they had been taught. Never talk to strangers, nor should you approach one. But in the life or death situation, they would be forced to accept their fate and ask for help.
"Okay. But the moment things get sketchy, we run." Sam compromised, not liking the idea one bit. But it was their only choice, and while both girls had mutual feelings, they knew all the well they would die out here without help. So they shimmied down the tree to an acceptable level, and began running once more in the direction of the camp. Their last glimpse of the shaking trees led Sam to believe that the monsters had caught their scent and were traveling faster- something both friends feared. But it would remain unspoken as they traveled as fast as they could, the danger following them like dust follows wind.
Eventually, Sam and Sierra reached the camp. They had stopped a few miles out, scouting the site and making sure it was truly safe. For the moment, they seemed to be hunters. But Sam would run like a book out of hell the moment a threat was promised, and knew Sierra wouldn't be too far behind. So the last few miles they jogged in the trees, conserving energy for another 400 meter dash in the forest. As the girls grew closer, they noticed the men and women become more alert, looking in the trees. Finally, the gaze of an old man landed on them. He grabbed the attention of a few others and Sam cursed them- there goes the element of surprise. So they jumped out of the trees when they had gotten to the lower branches, breathing heavily.
"Listen. There's a pack of something out there and we've been running for quite a while. I don't know what you hunt, but we need some type of protection." Sierra breathed out, hand on the holster of her gun. The old man looked to the others before walking forward. His gaze landed again on the brooch that clasped together Sam's cloak, and the bulge in her bag.
"We are willing to help. What are your names?" The old man asked. He leaned on some type of walking stick, and Sam caught the sword at his side. How had they missed it? She drew her bow and nocked an arrow faster than any could react, and Sierra was forced to unsheathe her knife, shaking her head. What was Sam doing?
"Give me your name and what you hunt or this arrow will be in your eye before your buddies can pull out their weapons." Sam hissed out, anger in her eyes as she sealed her threat. The aim of the arrow was true- even if it was not loosed, the arrow was pointed directly at the eye of the old man. The air around them darkened and the old man seemed to grow. Sam put the arrow back slowly in fear, not knowing what else to do.
"The stubbornness of dwarves will kill us all! You girls have no idea who you are dealing with. My name is Gandalf the Grey and you are threatening a group of elves! Do you have no fear of death?" Gandalf boomed. Sierra put away her knife, now thoroughly confused. The air lightening after the weapons were put away, and Sam took a step back.
"I apologize. Gandalf is dealing with Dwarves at the moment, and these are particularly stubborn. I fear that you would be in the same boat as they if you were not half-elven. But where are my manners? I am Lord Elrond, lord of Rivendell." The Regal man spoke, apologizing for his friends. But Sam and Sierra merely looked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean half elven?"
