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~ The Brown Wizard and the Big Bad Wolves ~

The sun set and a fresh chill breeze ran down the mountains from the north. Well into nightfall Elraen was still walking, now quite high up on the wooded mountain sides. Suddenly she heard a great howl so close she froze in her tracks as a shiver went through her. Then she heard another, and another. They were up ahead and seemed to be getting closer. She turned around and made almost due south, quickening her pace as the wind picked up around her. Just then she also heard a different sound that she couldn't place from somewhere ahead of her. It almost sounded like the call of a bird, a falcon or an eagle perhaps. Whatever was ahead probably presented the lesser danger, she thought, and started into a run. The howls followed. Elraen broke into a sprint. Clouds began to gather overhead. Emerging into a glade she almost didn't notice the figure of a tall man in brown as she passed by. Stunned, she turned her head back quickly for a look as she passed. There indeed was a man standing there just a few feet above the footpath she was now running along, and she saw that he then turned to follow her.

A very perplexing sight which made her all the more nervous, she pushed up her pace all the more. She heard the strange sound again, realizing now that it was the strange man whistling like a bird. Coming out into another clearing Elraen reached the end of the path and found herself surrounded by sheer slopes, too tall and steep to descend with any speed or safety. She heard footsteps behind her and whirled around in a fright. It was the man, an old man, with long greying brown hair and beard, a long ruddy brown robe, and a long twisted walking stick in his hand. She gasped and stared at him, wondering what he would do next. He stared back, equally confused, and put two fingers to his mouth, letting out another great whistle. Suddenly behind them came the noise of their pursuers. They slowed as they approached, and closing in to just a few yards they formed a half circle around the two. The beasts were very large, near the size of Rohan's ponies, much larger than she'd ever imagined wolves could be. The small blanket of thin pale clouds which had gathered above rapidly grew thicker, and darker, and gave the grumblings of a thunderstorm.

The man backed away from them and stopped close in front of her. He glanced up at the sky, wondering at the strange and sudden turn of the weather. The wolves glared at them, grumbling a low growl yet all standing still, as if waiting for a command from their leader who seemed to be the one in the center. The largest one he was, with curious markings, including a crooked strip of white marked upon his brow. The wind began to circle around the pair, leaving them in a spot of calm but the area around them caught in a gale. It blew so fierce that the wolves were taken aback and had to lower their stance to withstand it. Lighting began to crack down upon the hillside around them. Elraen pulled out her large knife and held it behind her, readying for a fight.

The strange old man was equally amazed over what was happening but thinking quickly he flicked his staff and the bits of leaves and sticks and dirt and pebbles picked up by the blustering wind began to glimmer as if bright light shone upon them, and in different colors, like sun rays through many-faceted crystals. Elraen stood amazed, as perplexed as their foes. Suddenly she heard another sound not far off in the distance. Another bird call. Suddenly appeared three great eagles, larger even than the wolves, almost as big as horses. They dove at the wolfpack, who at last decided the hunt was no longer worth their trouble and retreated into the woods.

The wind died down as another two came down from behind, grabbing the arms of the two walkers in distress in their great talons and lifting them away. Very high they soared, and Elraen grasping desperately to her rescuer's legs gazed in amazement upon the ground opening up far below as they sailed over it with frightful speed. To her dismay they were flying southward, but she certainly dared not complain.

They had not flown defeatingly far, but far enough to set her back nearly a day's march. At last they were set down in a valley between two spurs of the foothills. As she looked on in awe, the old man chatted close and quietly with them for a few moments then backed away as he rendered his thanks and praise. He looked at her and gestured to her to do likewise. She curtsied, thanking them profusely for the rescue, all the while trying to decide how much to reveal. The lot of them seemed safe enough, though they all seemed to be heading south and so unlikely to be of much further help. They did seem curious about her, and indeed they were quietly very curious all the more about the winds and storms that seemed to draw to her, so she decided she could at least share her name, for few even in Rohan would know of her.

"My name is Elraen," she told them, "I was on a personal journey to the north and had to detour from the road into the mountains due to the rains."

The great eagle introduced himself, "I am Tarsul, a Captain of the Great Eagles. This my lieutenant who bore you is Culthoron." He continued with a polite apology over the setback in her journey, and she finished with her hope of returning the help someday. At that moment she did wish she had mastery enough over her strange gift to direct the wind to lift their wings and speed them on their way.

The old man rendered the proper farewell pleasantries, wishing the wind at their backs, and Elraen followed his example, and the great birds flew off. She and the man looked at each other for a silent and awkward long moment. "And who are you?" she at last asked in wonder.

The old man turned to head westward out of the valley. "I am called Radagast," he answered after a pause, wondering, as he began giving out great whistles that were now decidedly less bird-like. "I was returning home when my horse was spooked by the howls, he flew far off track and I later fell and lost him. If you are going north I'm afraid I cannot help you. I was routed too far south from my intended path and my route now lies yonder down around the end of those mountains and past the old forest."

"And you know those eagles?" she asked, following along, surprised by such a swift pace for an old man, as dawn started to break over the mountains.

"Oh yes, birds make useful friends," he said without stopping, still hurried with fright and letting out more whistles. "Some birds are not friendly, though, and are spies for enemies. Need to be careful of those in the wild."

"And those giant wolves?"

"Well, I may have guessed Wargs, as they were bigger than ordinary wolves, but were somewhat smaller than Wargs usually run. And they uttered no speech I could understand, so perhaps they were only wolves. In either case there were at least only five of them, which is far better than their usual numbers. The eagles I think will endeavor to push them back eastward if they can. If I were you I would not go the direction from whence we came, but if you must go north I recommend keeping lower down on the hills, and keeping a torch ready to light should you come across any more of them. Beyond that I do not know much about these parts."

"But you travel light, do you not eat? Or did your horse bear all of your goods?"

The old man stopped and looked at her, curious, noticing her deflated pack as it occurred to him that he had really come across a mortal maid child alone in the mountains. At the same time he pondered the curiosity of the strange storm in the woods. The eagles had told him of southerners fleeing northward for the most part of the year, but this one seemed different, with a loftier and more noble air. Deep down his heart told him he need not fear, and that he should help her.

He sighed, and replied, "I do not know why you wander the wilds here alone, child, and maybe you cannot say, but some help I can give at least, until we reach the end of the valley when I must turn south." She followed him through the wide valley between two spurs in the foothills from before dawn until dusk was setting in, as he stopped now and again to teach her of foraging, finding several handfuls of wild nuts, berries, wild greens, mushrooms, carrots, tubers, and onions. It wasn't very much, but anything seemed better than the week's worth of cram she had left. He continued whistling, and by noon when the reason for the whistling at last became plain. A neighing came from the trees off to their right, then out trotted a chestnut brown horse that sped up to greet him.

"I must depart now," he said as he mounted the horse. "Farewell, Elraen," he said looking at her still with some wonder, puzzling over her strangeness as though something about it felt familiar. "May the Lords of the West protect you."

She found herself sad to part with the strange old man, having been glad of the company, and tempted to ask him along the rest of her journey. But he seemed in a frightful hurry, as if the minions of the old witch realm were chasing him down from the north, and she let the idea go. "Perhaps we shall meet again," she said quietly with a bow of her head, "Thank you, Radagast."

With that he took off like the wind, and she turned back northward, keeping a hard pace to recover lost ground as another rain started up again. Remembering the note about wicked birds she decided to stay within the tree line low down in the foothills, and kept a long dead stick with strips of spare bandaging stuffed with dry leaves and pine needles wrapped around one end. Elraen saw at least the waterfall she had noticed, when she pulled ashore the rowboat, not too far ahead on the right, and was glad she was at least not very far from where she was first waylaid the night before.