I have this whole story written out already, basically my lap top is full of stuff from over the years that is just waiting to be read by someone other than me. Of course this doesn't mean any of them are good, but I appreciate any thoughts you might have. Especially since I am so busy not doing my European Literature homework to root through all of my stuff. Who wants to read the Aeneid anyway? Hey my roomate is interrupting me. She saw Ice Age II! (pouts) I wanted to see that!

Never Talk to Strangers

Eriathwen stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. She looked around her surroundings curiously. I must be getting close by now. This was one of the few times in her life when she was bored, but more so than that, she was uneasy; a feeling that she rarely ever had. She felt as though she was being watched, but she figured she was imagining it out of her boredom.

The trees had been thick and menacing most of her journey, but here they seemed to be growing farther apart and she could actually see the sunlight coming through the canopy of trees. Regardless of the openness of the forest, they still had that menacing feeling. She wasn't too fond of them, but they didn't really bother her all that much. No, it was that feeling she had that she didn't like so much. She stepped out from underneath the tree that she had been resting her hand on for the last minute or so. She especially didn't like this tree, she just didn't know why….

Eriathwen dived to the side, rolled, and was up on one knee; bow in hand ready to fire, in a blink of an eye. She didn't bother look at the arrow embedded in the ground where she had been standing only moments before. She aimed high in the tree, where her attacker was sure to be hiding. Just before her release however, she heard something in its branches, just slightly farther to the right. She moved her bow a few inches to the right, but then thought better of it.

Before she could move her bow back, she heard a twang and an arrow came flying out of the tree, were she had been originally aiming, and broke her arrow in two. Darn it, I knew he was there! Uh oh! Thinking had been her mistake. While she thought about her misaiming, her attacker sprang lightly from the high branches and landed a few feet in front of her, bow raised and ready for the kill. It was an elf, a wood elf, and she could tell just by looking at him that he was a skilled hunter. She just wished that she wasn't his current prey. She saw however, that he had two dagger handles sticking out from behind his back, just barely showing beneath his elegant blonde hair that flowed over his shoulders. I am quite good with the blade my self. He has an arrow already notched, where as I don't, so he would kill me for sure if I try to shoot him, but if I can get him to advance with his daggers instead, there I might have a chance of defeating him.

Eriathwen tossed her bow slowly to the side, not wanting her attacker to think she was afraid of him, and then quickly pulled her long dagger out of its sheath at her side. She beckoned him to do the same. He lightly dropped his bow at his feet and pulled one of his daggers out before stepping forward. They stared at each other for a moment, each taking in the others face, and then, in a simultaneous reaction, they both sprang on each other with deadly skill and force. Eriathwen had sharpened her blade just that morning, and was hoping that its sharp edge would help her to end this quickly.

It was over in a flash. She dropped her blade and stared at it in amazement where it lay broken in two on the ground. Her opponent stared likewise at his blade, the hilt still in his grasp. They had broken each others blades on the first pass. Darn it! Not wanting to use her boot knife against his long daggers, she decided to try her bow again. She would have to draw him close to use her knife, so the bow it was. She made a movement towards her bow, where it lay some feet away from her. But the strange elf was quicker, his being at his feet already. She picked her bow up just as he fired, narrowly missing her side as she dived down against the trunk of a tree. The arrow had skimmed her clothing, possibly her skin too, so she decided to work with it. Her bow was once again out of reach, so she had to draw him close enough to use her knife. Now was her chance, possibly the only one she would get.

She stayed lying on the ground, unmoving, and watched her attacker through half closed eyes. He could see her eyes open, but he thought she was hurt. He wasn't sure if he had hit her or not, but the pained look on her face led him to believe that he had. He stepped forward cautiously, and all the while she watched. That's right, come closer, come on. She slid the knife out of her boot, unbeknownst to him, and clutched it in her hand, a slight flicker of satisfaction glinting in her eyes. Her attacker did notice this however and immediately stopped his advance. No! I knew I shouldn't have been too proud of myself for getting my knife out. Now what?

She groaned instinctively, hoping to draw him in again. She rolled slightly on her right side of her back and, breathing heavily, put her free hand over her side where the arrow had almost pierced her. She was even fortunate enough as to have been hit slightly, just enough to bleed a little. That should do the trick. She thought as he saw his eyes register that she was bleeding. Yes, that's right; keep coming closer, closer…

Closer indeed. He was right in front of her, and was cautiously crouching down to look at her face. Pity, he's kind of cute. All well. With those lasts thoughts she used her free hand to spring forward, knife in her right, and lurched straight at him. Yes it was too bad; too bad he had been expecting it. As quick as she had stood, he had drawn his other blade forth, and snatched her right hand with his left. She had only managed to just barely break the skin. He's good, too good. He had his blade pressing against the minuscule scrape on her side, making it bleed even more.

"Who are you?" he questioned her. She glared back at him, refusing to answer, after all, she knew better than to talk to strangers. "Answer me, who are you?" he brought his blade up to where it was even with her throat.

"I could ask you the same." She replied, deciding finally to play with the conversation, until the right moment that is…

He squeezed her wrist and banged it off the trunk of the tree, trying to force her to drop the knife. She refused however, to let go. "I live here, in these woods, where as you, I have never seen you before. So I ask again, who are you?" Eriathwen stared blankly at him. "What is your name?" she smiled evilly at him.

"My name, my name is…good bye." The elf stared at her in disbelief as she swung her left side forward, trying to catch him off balance, hoping he would dodge to the right, while bringing her right hand forward, with the knife facing his side. He was too good for that move too though. He saw the knife in her right hand, and, despite her efforts to get him to dodge right, he still went left, his blade still raised up high. He watched as her knife fell from her hand and hit the ground. He looked up at Eriathwen and watched as she sank down to the ground slowly. He let go of her wrist and stared at his dagger, now dripping with her crimson blood almost to the hilt.

He must have stabbed her when he jumped to the side; after all, she leaped forward towards his raised blade and he pushed his hand forward. The force of the two of us must have driven it pretty deep. He thought as he looked at the gash in her shoulder, and then back at his dagger, still dripping red. He looked down again at where she lay still on the ground. He knelt down at her side, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Your name is… Good Bye?" he stood up. "Well Good Bye, I take my leave." He turned and went to retrieve his arrows and his broken dagger. As he picked up the pieces to his dagger he smiled, remembering the look on her face when it had happened. He was sure his face hadn't looked much different. He fetched his arrows, and thought about how quickly she had dodged that first shot. As he went to retrieve his third and final arrow, which was past the tree she was leaning against, he stopped and stared at her. She really is pretty, now that she is now longer trying to kill me that is.

He picked up his arrow and put it back in its quiver. He then fetched her broken blade, her bow and her dagger. He walked by her, again stopping to look down at her. "I don't know who you are, or why you are here, but for some reason I pity you." He leaned down and carefully picked her up. "And I don't know why to that either." He then began walking towards the palace where he lived with his father, the king. He didn't know why he was taking her there, but if any one could make sense of the whole ordeal, it was the king, so that is where she would go.