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The lightning cracked across the night sky, illuminating it in false daylight, then, with the boom of thunder sounding like a great tree splitting in two, the forest again returned to the pitch hours of darkness. The fellowship trudged through the seemingly endless woodland as they had for two days now. The trees rose great and majestic above them, many of the ancient roots protruding out of the soil rose taller than the hobbits. The dry air promised rain coming swiftly on the wind as another flash of lightning split the sky followed closely by another bout of thunder. Unnoticed even to the sharp senses of the elf Legolas, a slim figure slipped from tree to tree in the branches high above. The mysterious figure dropped silently from an upper limb to one reaching only a few feet above the elf's head, and perched there without even the rustling of leaves. The strong yet soft Elvish boots balanced without faltering on the bough and not a muscle in the strong leg shook with effort at crouching in such a position. The figure was definitely an elf. You could see this not only from the stature and grace with which it moved, but also the from the clothes the being wore. The soft, supple leather was made to blend into the land and was weathered yet beautiful. The slightly baggy pants were laced up on both sides in a loose crisscrossing pattern with cords of leather. The shirt was tighter to the elf's body to prevent it from snagging on any branches and laced up the front as well as along the sleeves which reached from shoulder to the graceful yet calloused hands that could only belong to an archer and well seasoned warrior. The elf wore no cloak, as it would just get in the way and its hair was braided back from gracefully tilting ears much in the same fashion of Legolas. But there was one thing that very clearly stated that this being was not full- blooded elf. There was a power surrounding this being that did not belong to the elves. While the elves had the powers of healing and a small amount of elemental magic, this being was surrounded by a power much greater than that. Greater even than that of Gandalf the Grey, of Sauruman the Wise. This being held within it a power that had not been seen at large in Middle Earth since the beginning of time. The power of ages. The power of life itself. The Power given to the highest and purest of beings to ensure that the lives of middle earth would ever live on. And that power was following the fellowship, now.
The lightning cracked across the night sky, illuminating it in false daylight, then, with the boom of thunder sounding like a great tree splitting in two, the forest again returned to the pitch hours of darkness. The fellowship trudged through the seemingly endless woodland as they had for two days now. The trees rose great and majestic above them, many of the ancient roots protruding out of the soil rose taller than the hobbits. The dry air promised rain coming swiftly on the wind as another flash of lightning split the sky followed closely by another bout of thunder. Unnoticed even to the sharp senses of the elf Legolas, a slim figure slipped from tree to tree in the branches high above. The mysterious figure dropped silently from an upper limb to one reaching only a few feet above the elf's head, and perched there without even the rustling of leaves. The strong yet soft Elvish boots balanced without faltering on the bough and not a muscle in the strong leg shook with effort at crouching in such a position. The figure was definitely an elf. You could see this not only from the stature and grace with which it moved, but also the from the clothes the being wore. The soft, supple leather was made to blend into the land and was weathered yet beautiful. The slightly baggy pants were laced up on both sides in a loose crisscrossing pattern with cords of leather. The shirt was tighter to the elf's body to prevent it from snagging on any branches and laced up the front as well as along the sleeves which reached from shoulder to the graceful yet calloused hands that could only belong to an archer and well seasoned warrior. The elf wore no cloak, as it would just get in the way and its hair was braided back from gracefully tilting ears much in the same fashion of Legolas. But there was one thing that very clearly stated that this being was not full- blooded elf. There was a power surrounding this being that did not belong to the elves. While the elves had the powers of healing and a small amount of elemental magic, this being was surrounded by a power much greater than that. Greater even than that of Gandalf the Grey, of Sauruman the Wise. This being held within it a power that had not been seen at large in Middle Earth since the beginning of time. The power of ages. The power of life itself. The Power given to the highest and purest of beings to ensure that the lives of middle earth would ever live on. And that power was following the fellowship, now.