These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.
Pants of the beasts could well be heard, though Pippin's eyes did not see them. The first arrow was released and sailed to a dark spot where a wolf was running, piercing deep above it's shoulder blade and stopping him dead. Six more were in view, hustling through the chilled wind to devour their prey. Legolas offed four of them in sequential order in seconds. On the right and on the left, the remaining wolves scaled the boulders to attack from either side. With his left hand, Legolas unsheathed his deadly knife and came up against the mangy dog striking from the right. Swiftly and with great force, he jabbed the hind of the wolf. As it howled in terror, Legolas brought round his white blade slitting it's throat, death was in an instant. At close range bows and arrows are useless, proving his knives the better weapon. Blood and flesh fall easily from the elf's blade, it remained clean as it returned to it's casing.
Again, more wolves dashed through the wood towards the pair, racing in their lethal fashion. "These animals travel in close packs of six or eight. Surely, the work of the Enemy is at hand!" Legolas thought aloud. He quickly spun back to Pippin who was on his back, fending the beast that pounced atop him, recklessly wielding his sword. The knife was unsheathed again. It's length thrust through the wolf's skull with a crack, collapsing flat on the hobbit with a dull thump. Legolas kicked off the dead thing as Pippin gasped for air.
Grabbing his arm, Legolas jerked Pippin to his feet and quickly instructed, "Our battle is only beginning. I dare not say how many we have yet to fend, so as not to discourage you. Swallow your fear or never again see the sunlight of dawn! Maintain your balance by bending your knees a slight and forwarding your weight to your toes. Take short swings; it is a great opportunity for the enemy to strike if your swing is wide, it leaves your body unguarded."
Legolas said it all too fast--Pippin hardly made sense of it. But somehow his body knew and followed the lesson to the letter. Pippin could not count them, but he was certain the elf targeted, at the least, six wolves consecutively, all shot through their beating chests, sending them whimpering or to their death. Legolas cast down his bow, drawing out his knives. "I have exhausted my ammunition, I cannot keep them at bay." He looked sharply at Pippin, "We must let them come and face them square."
Four sets of eyes ran to them, jumping up the boulders they stood upon. Many years of warfare prepared the wise elf for quarrels such as these. As he twisted in all directions, Legolas stabbed and kicked the beasts it seemed, with little effort. A previously injured wolf made it's way up to the rock, an arrow wavered from its shoulder blade. Fiercely he barked at Pippin and lunged for his torso. But Pippin did not fall back and commanded himself to lean forward and block his body with his steel blade. He tilted the angle of his sword holding the hilt with both hands and swiftly swung down, cutting loose the insides of the animal. Yet more were coming and Pippin had to wait to congratulate himself.
The attack was waning in favor of the Company of Two. Four more did Pippin slay by his sword and twice that and more was Legolas' score. The end was near, but one remained. Legolas faced the last of the wolves, cunning, as he was strong, the lone wolf surveyed his foe, growling, exhibiting his fangs. In both hands the elven knives stayed ready, he lurched forward in defense, calculating the final move. They rallied on for a long length but neither tired or faltered. In circles they continued, warrior against warrior, skilled so not to allow giving the upper hand, experts to avoid injury, yet failing to afflict a blow to end it all. A deep, heavy rasp entered the elf's mind and it said to him, "You will not defeat me. My eye is searching and the One will be found."
The words were not audible to Pippin, but deep inside his bones, he felt evil flow thickly in the air, liken to a dense fog. Pippin scurried for an answer and he found the last arrow lodged in the conquered wolf of his killing. Taking the bow of Legolas he mounted the bloody arrow and aimed, as Legolas did, for the heart of the beast. The bow snapped and cut the inexperienced hand of the novice, sending the bow dreadfully off course and striking down the elf.
The kingly wolf snarled with laughter. Hunched down, eyes fixed on the lowly hobbit, he spread apart his deadly fangs ready to gouge Pippin's appetizing, little head. He leaped into the air and was cut lengthwise by the white edge of steel extended by the downed archer. Legolas deftly maneuvered the wolf's plummet to earth, rolling to his side and on to his back. The great shape of the large animal disintegrated into the nothingness of black dust as the other evil corpses promptly followed suit. The wind picked up their granulated remains and swept south, towards Mordor, leaving no sign of their enemy. Indeed, he was the last and Pippin and Legolas were safe to retire.