Thorin and the Company had fled Burnt Ridge and regrouped at a safe distance just north of the fire. Half the Dwarves spent the better part of the day chasing down the last three ponies that had bolted in panic. All of their supplies were intact, and nothing was lost...aside from Kili.
They watched the forest fire sputter itself out in the damp surrounding ground. Smoke and steam blew in their direction, and made the afternoon sun disappear as if behind thunderclouds.
"What do we do now?" Bilbo asked of Balin.
"Calm the ponies. Eat, if you have stomach for it. Pray for a sign." Balin sighed.
Fili approached Thorin, "We must go back and wait at the ridge for Kili. That is what we told him to do."
"We cannot. " Thorin responded, eyes downcast. "The fire is still hot and we would be completely exposed. Kili is not on that ridge. He is too smart for that. He would know to head North toward Lonely Mountain. We will spot him on our way."
"Or he is still stuck in the ravine, where we left him!" spat Fili.
Thorin sighed. "Get Dwalin. We three will go to the ridge...look for a sign that Kili was ever there. If there be none, we will all look South, for the head of the ravine, tomorrow."
Fili nodded with relief.
It took the three hardiest Dwarves an hour to reach the edge of the spent forest fire.
"Halt." Dwalin drew up sharply. A dead Warg lay before them, an arrow though its eye. Dwalin pulled the strange arrow out and looked at the three heads, "Elves...must have been a fight here."
They pulled out their swords, and continued cautiously to the top of the ridge. They saw the carnage of dead horses, another lifeless Warg, and several dead Orcs.
"Wonder who won." Dwalin mused. His experienced soldier's eyes could tell that the Orcs had been circling - they had trapped something. Whatever it was, it had put up a fight. Dwalin noted the evidence - Elf arrows in an Orc corpse - more Elf arrows. Now a spear - they had turned to hand-to-hand combat here.
Sword wounds now appeared on the Orc bodies. A severed Orc hand here - an arm there. An Elf Guard helmet lay on the ground.
"Here was your last stand." Dwalin spoke in a grudging respect. He lifted the helmet and saw it - Kili's knife.
Dwalin dropped to his knees and cried out a curse to Mahal. This was not the sign he had been praying for.