Ski raced through the forest, her heart thumping wildly against her chest like a trapped animal. She was a fool! Meeting and befriending Alagos had caused her to relax about Elves. Seeing his face when he realized another Elf was approaching, though, and hearing the intensity of his tone, had jolted her back into reality. Alagos was most likely an exception to his kind. Other Elves would, most likely, shoot her on sight. And Alagos could very well get into deep trouble if he was found with her.
There was a faint path, but Ski didn't keep to it. She zigzagged around, darting off to the right or left suddenly, then curving back to the opposite direction. She felt like a hunted animal. This must be what Wargs' prey feels like, she thought dimly. Ski was tired now, but she dared not stop, even to listen for sounds of pursuit. She feared that, though Alagos had surely made his best effort, he had not been able to keep his fellow Elves from hunting her down.
Only when the Sun began to set and twilight began to gather did Ski stop. She collapsed in a heap on the leaf-litter, lungs burning and chest heaving. Her legs wouldn't stop trembling—perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from fear, or perhaps from both. Ski tried very hard not to imagine what the Elves would do to her if they caught her. Sometimes having a vivid imagination was a bad thing.
Once she had caught her breath and her heartbeat had slowed a bit, Ski sat up and looked around to get her bearings. She was…oh, Morgoth, she didn't know where she was! Taking turns at random may have foiled pursuit, but it had managed to get the young Orc thoroughly lost. Now she was alone in a foreign place, and it was getting dark—not that the dark itself bothered her (she came from Moria, after all), but she knew the kinds of creatures that emerged at night. And Ski was just as frightened of her own kind as she was of Elves.
Ski decided that her best bet would be to stay in the forest. Lothlórien's borders were protected by guards, so it was less likely she would run into any Orcs or Wargs or anything while inside the borders. "Haldir perceives little risk from this area." Alagos's words came back to Ski, but she shrugged them off. That meant that fewer guards were wasted on patrols here; but it also must mean that enemies rarely appeared around here. Ski sighed. She was thirsty, but there was little she could do about that. Her stomach growled, and she peered around through the gloom for something edible.
Aha! She had spied an anthill. It wasn't much, but if she ate the whole colony, it should at least put something in her belly. She just hoped they weren't the stinging kind. Ski picked her way over to the anthill and stirred it with a stick, and fat red ants swarmed out. She groaned; they were the stinging kind. Briefly she considered trying to eat them anyway, but quickly dismissed the idea. Her skin might be tough, but her mouth and throat were still sensitive enough for ant-bites to hurt. The young Orc's stomach gurgled again, and she poked it, muttering, "Shut up."
Ski resigned herself to the hunger and sat down with her back to a tree trunk, awaiting the morning.
A small gust of air, accompanied by a slight whuff sound, riffled her hair. Ski stirred sleepily. She could see faint gray light through her eyelids; she must have dozed through most of the night. She sniffed, suddenly becoming aware of a heavy, musky stench close by. A twig snapped right in front of her, and the noisy puff of air came again, this time accompanied by a long, low growl.
Ski's eyes snapped open to find the twisted face of a Warg scarcely two feet from her own. She gasped and unthinkingly tried to scramble backwards, only to find her way blocked by the tree trunk. At her sudden movement the beast tensed up and laid its ears back, lifting its heavy black lips in a snarl. It glared at Ski with red eyes that burned with malice. A rope of drool hung from its jaws, quivering with the Warg's movement. Ski knew it was going to spring, and knew she had only moments to come up with a plan of action.
She tried to think fast. She didn't see or hear any other Wargs, so this must be a lone one—good, in a way, because that made it one-on-one, but also bad, because lone Wargs were known to be even more vicious than their social counterparts. Ski had no weapons, no means of defense…except…
A wild idea popped into her head. Well, why not? Before the monstrous canine could spring, Ski bolted to her feet and skipped sideways, out from in front of the tree. Scooping up the first stout stick she could find, she began to run—a futile exercise, she knew, but she only needed to outrun it for a few yards.
With a roar, the Warg leapt after the little Orc, who had halted not far away. Ski tried not to look at the huge, slavering jaws that were fast approaching, and focused instead on its short, ugly snout. The giant paws slid on the leaves as the beast slowed itself; then it lunged at the Orc's throat. Ski was ready for it: with a grunt of effort, she swung the stick at its sensitive nose with all her might. Her muscle, combined with the huge beast's momentum, caused the stick to hit the creature's nose so hard the wood splintered and broke.
The monster howled in agony as blood gushed from its nose. While the thing was distracted, Ski jumped over to its neck, dug her hands into the mottled brown fur, and pushed downward for all she was worth. The Warg, focused entirely on its throbbing snout, allowed its head to give in to the guiding push. A few seconds later, it reared up with another anguished cry, knocking Ski away. She had shoved its face deep into the biting-ants' nest. Completely ignoring Ski, the beast pounded away, stumbling, face covered in ants. It ran headlong into a tree and stumbled sideways with a yelp, continuing on its agonized journey out of the forest.
Ski stood and dusted a few ants off her arms and ragged garments, watching the Warg with satisfaction until it was no longer visible. She had sustained a few ant bites herself, especially on her bare feet, but ant bites were certainly preferable over Warg bites any day. The young Orc smiled to herself and began walking, taking the same path as the Warg in order to get out of the forest, but taking care to stay far behind the beast. Its fading howls caused Ski to laugh with rising glee; but alas, that glee would be short-lived.
OK, I put in that last sentence to force me to write a somewhat darker chapter. I've been meaning to, but whenever I start to write, something more light-hearted comes out. This way I'm committed. :)
Hearty thanks, again, to everyone who followed/faved and reviewed! I'm so happy you guys like it!
AlexFili: Thank you very much-I'm flattered you think my dialogue is true to Tolkien (and is free of the blight of cheese)! It's especially hard to write humorous dialogue in Tolkien's style, particularly that of the Elves. I try my best. :)
Oh yes, and one last note: as I mentioned before, I was off from pretty much everything this week, so that's why I've been able to write and update so fast. Unfortunately, with the return of classes came schoolwork, and things are picking up as the end of the semester approaches. I promise to write and update when I can!