1Disclaimer: Middle-Earth is not mine. The Woodland Wanderers are my friends. So I guess you could call them mine.
Warning: I tend to talk real fancy-like when I write a chapter like this. Bear with me. It's just an attempt to make it interesting, and perchance a little foreshadowing.
"Often will the past direct the course of the future."
–Peter, of the Woodland Wanderers
Chapter Three
An Altogether Different Group
Far, far, far away, on an island rightly named the Undiscovered Island, another small group held council. They're known as the Woodland Wanderers. Outlawed by their own people, hunted by monsters, and misunderstood by just about everyone else, their life was no easy one.
There were eight of them: Noka, Rona, Latano, Tandro, Balo, Peter, Eric, and Morgan. The last three were humans, all of them originally from the United States of America. Each chose to leave that life or to live only partially in it. Their hearts, now and forever, are with their island.
The other five were elves. (A/NThis is where I beg you not to get confused. There are two kinds of elves in this story. For convenience's sake, I have capitalized the ones from Middle-Earth. The fact that they are both even called elves is pure coincidence.) The elves of the Undiscovered Island are short: only about four feet. They, too, live in the woods known as the Unknown Forest, but the ones of whom I speak no longer had a home. Complete outcasts, they broke the most important law in the woods. They helped an enemy escape.
"So what now?" asked Balo, the youngest and newest of the group. An elf of only twelve years, she was Latano's niece and a warrior with much skill and a fiery temper. With light skin, long light brown hair, light grey eyes, and a light heart, her innocence was no longer a match for her experience. The former had decreased, the latter increased.
Morgan, only a year older then her elven companion, just shrugged. Most of the time, she'd leave the decisions to the others. She'd first heard of the island only two years past, and in those two years, her new-found friends had changed her life. Clip-on sunglasses now shielded the experience she'd since then found and could now be seen in her brown eyes. She had shoulder-length brown hair to match, and, when it came to this island, a confidence most thirteen-year-olds have yet to find.
Eric, in his turn, also shrugged his shoulders. Usually the first to speak up with a plan, no matter how stupid, he had nevertheless learned long ago how one simple decision could change a person's life–forever. Now over forty, age hadn't diminished his skill with his sword any more than it had greyed his pitch-black hair, which was almost as long as Morgan's. Light blue eyes that could stare through a mountain now looked to the rest of the group for an answer.
"Well. . . ." Peter started, but then hesitated. His idea made sense to him and would make sense to Morgan, but none of the others knew much, if anything, about Middle-Earth. He'd been the first to meet Morgan and shared her love for both their country and the island in whose events they'd been so thoroughly caught up. The oldest of the group, he would've passed for a wizard himself if he'd grown his grey beard longer. He had dark brown eyes and the annoying ability some people have for constantly getting into trouble.
"Well what?" Latano asked. He'd known the old man the longest and still hadn't a clue what he was talking about this time. He had grey eyes like Balo's, long black hair, and a calmness that kept his niece's temper in check. Normally quiet, he, like Morgan, usually let the others make decisions, but jumped in with an idea when he had a good one.
"Yeah, tell us," Tandro coaxed. He alone could sense Latano's impatience. Neither of them enjoyed waiting around and doing nothing. He, too, preferred to let others do most, if not all, of the talking. He'd learned that from working as a spy until he was found out. The second-newest member of the group, he'd blown his cover to save his friends, and had barely gotten away alive. He had brown hair as long as Latano's, and brown eyes as sharp as Eric's.
Noka just leaned back casually against an oak tree and smiled. Until the others came up with an idea, he was content to talk to birds. He'd mastered the skill only shortly after he'd lost his sight, only little more than two years before. At first it was sort of a hobby. Now, it was a valuable skill that the group often found useful. He, like Tandro, had grown hair and brown eyes, and the worst sight and the best hearing of the group.
Like Noka, Rona stood out, but for reasons all her own. She was the only one with dark skin, the only one with blond hair, and, until recently, she'd been the only female elf. Her experience with being considered different and strange matched even Morgan's, and her experience with people underestimating her abilities was a match for even Noka's.
"All right," Peter said at last. He whispered something to Morgan, who nodded vigorously. "Close your eyes, everyone," Peter announced.
"Where to?" asked Latano, well used to Peter's strange way of traveling.
Morgan answered for him. "Middle-Earth."
Okay, so this chapter was short. I don't like writing big long chapters. People get bored with all the words and start skipping paragraphs and miss something important. I should know; I do it. Well, review and please tell me what you think of the Woodland Wanderers. They aren't going away no matter what you tell me to do, but I am curious which ones people connect with . . . for later reasons. Thanks. –Smeagol Fasir Kenobi