Disclaimer: you people really like rubbing it in, don't you? Come on, admit
it! You know you love hearing me say it's not mine so you can laugh at me.
Oh well, here's the next chapter.
Chapter eight:
Too Late
Leslee ran as fast and as far as she could, tears still flowing freely down her cheeks. She tried her best to stop, because she knew that it would just make her more tired, and she needed all of her strength if she was going to out run Legolas, but at that thought she would start crying anew. She couldn't believe he was doing this. He had told her that he loved her, and she him. Why did he still want to kill her? Something had happened. Something he hadn't told her. He wouldn't just change all of a sudden like that for no good reason. Big changes like that don't just come out of the blue. But then again, he had hated her yesterday, yet loved her today. Maybe Tolkien had forgotten to write that he had a split personality. Or maybe he was just as confused as she was. No, he had looked too horribly sure of what he was saying to be confused. He really wanted her dead this time.
She kept running, her sides and calves screaming in protest. She was a band geek, not a cross-country runner; her body wasn't used to such onslaught. She wanted badly to collapse and rest, but the pressing fear of his arrival kept her moving. She was running blindly, hoping to God that she wasn't going north or east, because any path in those directions would take her straight to Mirkwood, the one place she was trying to avoid. She thought about her plan of action. She could keep running blindly, and risk heading towards Mirkwood, but hopefully out run Legolas, or she could stop, and risk having him catch up, but point her self in the right direction.
But WAS the right direction? West would take her to the Misty Mountains. She didn't exactly know what to expect there. She had no food supplies, save for that soda and cereal bars, but that wouldn't last her more than a day with all this energy she was using, and she had no way of catching food once she was on the mountain. If she went south, she could follow the skirts of Fangorn, then go east to Rohan, where she could sell something in order to get food and maybe shelter, but that was an awfully long way, and she didn't think she'd make it.
But that was her best bet, so she slowed down, and looked up to see where the sun was. It was about five in the afternoon, and the sun was low on the horizon. She found that direction to be west, and was glad to find that she had been going south the whole time. She started running again, feeling a little better about her situation. She was forced to go at a slower pace, but continued to jog at the slowest.
It was nearly dark when her body finally caved in, and she fell to the ground. She slept where she had collapsed, telling herself that she would only give herself an hour to rest. Her mind slipped out of consciousness just as a dark figure stepped into sight.
Chapter eight:
Too Late
Leslee ran as fast and as far as she could, tears still flowing freely down her cheeks. She tried her best to stop, because she knew that it would just make her more tired, and she needed all of her strength if she was going to out run Legolas, but at that thought she would start crying anew. She couldn't believe he was doing this. He had told her that he loved her, and she him. Why did he still want to kill her? Something had happened. Something he hadn't told her. He wouldn't just change all of a sudden like that for no good reason. Big changes like that don't just come out of the blue. But then again, he had hated her yesterday, yet loved her today. Maybe Tolkien had forgotten to write that he had a split personality. Or maybe he was just as confused as she was. No, he had looked too horribly sure of what he was saying to be confused. He really wanted her dead this time.
She kept running, her sides and calves screaming in protest. She was a band geek, not a cross-country runner; her body wasn't used to such onslaught. She wanted badly to collapse and rest, but the pressing fear of his arrival kept her moving. She was running blindly, hoping to God that she wasn't going north or east, because any path in those directions would take her straight to Mirkwood, the one place she was trying to avoid. She thought about her plan of action. She could keep running blindly, and risk heading towards Mirkwood, but hopefully out run Legolas, or she could stop, and risk having him catch up, but point her self in the right direction.
But WAS the right direction? West would take her to the Misty Mountains. She didn't exactly know what to expect there. She had no food supplies, save for that soda and cereal bars, but that wouldn't last her more than a day with all this energy she was using, and she had no way of catching food once she was on the mountain. If she went south, she could follow the skirts of Fangorn, then go east to Rohan, where she could sell something in order to get food and maybe shelter, but that was an awfully long way, and she didn't think she'd make it.
But that was her best bet, so she slowed down, and looked up to see where the sun was. It was about five in the afternoon, and the sun was low on the horizon. She found that direction to be west, and was glad to find that she had been going south the whole time. She started running again, feeling a little better about her situation. She was forced to go at a slower pace, but continued to jog at the slowest.
It was nearly dark when her body finally caved in, and she fell to the ground. She slept where she had collapsed, telling herself that she would only give herself an hour to rest. Her mind slipped out of consciousness just as a dark figure stepped into sight.