Hunting
Eleniel: 14
Eleniel grumbled something incoherent as she whacked her stick against a tree and – rather roughly – sat herself down on a fallen log, placing her head in her hands.
She'd thought that learning to track and hunt would be fun, but no. It had been almost twenty minutes now, and she still couldn't find the twins and Glorfindel, who had hidden themselves somewhere in the forest. They were probably laughing at her right now.
"I give up!" she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the trees, and a few birds scattered from their nests, but no reply came. She stood up and kicked a rock across the forest floor in irritation, balling her hands into fists at her side. If she couldn't learn how to hunt something down, then her father would never allow her to go out on a patrol!
"Hey," came a calm voice, and the red-faced elf spun around, coming face to face with the balrog-slayer, "calm yourself."
"I will not calm myself! I have been looking for ages now, yet I still can't find anyone!"
Glorfindel walked forward and pulled the elleth towards his chest. Eleniel resisted for a moment, but then relaxed in the arms of her Fin, burying her face in his shoulder and letting her tears fall.
"I am so stupid," she mumbled, and Glorfindel made a noise of disapproval. He drew back and looked into her watery eyes.
"Do not ever let me hear you say that again, little warrior. You are not stupid, nor will you ever be. Tracking is not easy, alright? This is your first time trying, and if you keep practising, we both know that you will be the best hunter in Middle-earth in no time!"
Eleniel smiled. "I suppose," she said, falling forward into the warrior's chest.
"You suppose?" Glorfindel teased. "I am right. Just admit it."
Eleniel giggled. "Yes, you are right."
The balrog-slayer smiled warmly before standing straight and glancing at his surroundings. "Now," he said, "let us go and find your brothers."