#12 Betrayal
Racing through the canopy the golden haired elf kept his eyes on the fleeing figures beneath, or more correctly, upon the burden flung carelessly over one of their shoulders. He still could not understand how the orcs had managed to come upon his patrol so swiftly, or with so little warning. It was as if the trees themselves had helped mask their passage.
Allowing his feet to run without thought the elf increased his pace, he could feel the warm trickle of blood as it ran from the wound in his side but he pushed the knowledge aside. As long as there was hope he would carry on. He knew what these foul creatures did to elven captives and he was not about to abandon the last of his warriors to that fate.
A gap loomed suddenly before him and as he gathered himself to make, what should have been, a routine leap to reach the next tree he suddenly felt the world pulled from beneath his feet. One moment he was gathering speed along a gnarled yet stout bough the next it was simply gone and there was nothing but fresh air beneath him. He tried to twist, to reach out, to grasp even the tiniest of branches, but it was not to be, as soon as his fingers brushed their woody surfaces they were withdrawn out of reach as the tree bucked and swayed in a manner he had never before encountered in all the years he had lived.
He fell. And as he fell his heart began to break. Not for himself, no, for 'though he knew it may well be his end, death held for him no fear. Nay. 'twas for the captive, disappearing now beyond all aid his heart did grieve.
Just want to say thanks to Lord Illyren, whoever you are, for the lovely comments on the last drabble :)
