The wind howled through the rocky slopes of the Misty Mountains as the company of dwarves, along with Sirius and Gandalf, pressed forward. The cold bit at their skin, and the narrow path they followed was treacherous, with loose rocks and sudden drops. With the weight of their provisions on their backs and the memory of their narrow escape from the goblins fresh in their minds, they trudged in silence. Every sound, whether the scuttle of a stone or the whistle of the wind, seemed amplified in the oppressive quiet of the mountains.
As the day wore on, Thorin called for a halt. They found a small overhang of rock to shelter under as night began to fall, the shadows stretching long and dark over the peaks. They set up camp in silence, tension in the air that none could quite place. Something was off.
It began with a faint noise. Sirius, sharpening his blade by the fire, paused as his sharp senses picked up on it. A distant howl echoed through the mountains, carried on the cold wind. His hand froze mid-motion, and he glanced at the others. The dwarves, too, had heard it. It was faint, but unmistakable—a wolf's howl, deep and guttural, coming from somewhere not too far off.
Balin looked uneasy as he poked at the fire. "Wolves?"
"No ordinary wolves," Gandalf muttered, his face set in grim lines. "These mountains have many secrets, many dangers. We must be on our guard."
Sirius stood up and moved toward the edge of the camp, peering out into the encroaching darkness. His keen eyes scanned the jagged rocks and crags, but he saw no movement. The faint howls continued in the distance, growing nearer with each passing moment.
"Whatever they are, they're getting closer," Sirius said, his hand gripping the hilt of his wand.
"We'll stand watch," Thorin declared. "Two at a time. We cannot afford to be taken by surprise."
The dwarves nodded in agreement, though they wore grim expressions. After all they had been through, they were exhausted. But sleep would have to wait.
That night, Sirius and Gandalf took the first watch. The fire crackled softly, providing the only warmth against the mountain chill. Sirius paced along the perimeter of their small camp, his eyes constantly scanning the dark terrain. The howls had faded, but he knew the threat was still out there. His instincts told him they were being watched.
"Do you feel it too?" he asked quietly, standing beside Gandalf, who was leaning on his staff.
The wizard nodded. "Yes. There's something unnatural about these creatures. They are no mere wolves. We are being followed."
Sirius frowned, his mind racing. He had faced many dark creatures in his time, but the feeling of being hunted through these desolate mountains was unnerving. And yet, they had no choice but to keep moving forward. Their path lay ahead, and retreat was not an option.
As the night wore on, the howls became more sporadic, distant yet ever present. Each time, they were accompanied by the faintest rustle of movement—just out of sight, just beyond the range of their firelight. Sirius couldn't shake the feeling that they were being herded, led toward something.
After a tense few hours, Balin and Dwalin took over the watch, though no one slept easily. The howls persisted, and even the toughest of the dwarves found themselves glancing nervously into the darkness.
When morning came, the company packed up quickly and set off once more, eager to put distance between themselves and whatever stalked them. But the feeling of being watched never left. Sirius kept his wand close, his eyes constantly scanning the rocky outcroppings and the dense fog that clung to the mountainside.
They had traveled only a short distance when Thorin, who was leading, raised a hand to stop them. Everyone froze, tense and alert.
"What is it?" Sirius asked, moving to Thorin's side.
Thorin pointed ahead, where the path wound between two towering cliffs. On the rocky ledge above, barely visible through the mist, a figure moved—swift and silent. Then another. And another.
"Wargs," Gandalf whispered, his face grim. "Servants of the orcs, deadly hunters."
The company bristled, weapons at the ready. The wargs were circling them, shadowy figures slipping in and out of sight above them. They hadn't attacked yet, but it was clear that they were waiting for the right moment to strike.
"We'll have to move fast," Thorin said. "If they attack, we won't stand a chance out in the open."
Gandalf nodded. "We'll need to find cover soon. There's a valley not far from here where the path narrows. We might be able to defend ourselves better there."
The company moved quickly, their pace brisk as the wargs continued to shadow them from above. Every so often, one of the creatures would let out a low, haunting howl, as if calling to the others.
Sirius stayed near the back of the group, his senses on high alert. His mind raced as he thought of ways to protect the group. His hand tightened around his wand, and he glanced at Gandalf, who was walking just ahead of him.
"This is going to get ugly, isn't it?" Sirius asked.
Gandalf gave a short, humorless laugh. "I'm afraid so."
The company marched on, knowing that the inevitable confrontation with the wargs was drawing closer with every step.
The company ran with all their strength, feet pounding the rough terrain, breath heaving in the cold air of the Misty Mountains. Behind them, the thunder of orcs mounted on wargs echoed louder, closer. They could hear the savage growls of the beasts, the harsh shouts of the orcs spurring their mounts forward. The chase had become a desperate race for survival.
"Faster!" Thorin urged, looking back with a grim expression. "We can't let them catch us."
Sirius, running at the back of the group, glanced over his shoulder. The orcs were gaining ground, their sheer numbers overwhelming. The idea of turning to fight briefly crossed his mind—he was never one to run from a battle—but he knew it would be suicide. They were outnumbered, and while the dwarves were formidable fighters, a stand-off here would mean death for many of them.
"We'll fight when we must, but now we run," Sirius muttered to himself, his mind racing for other options.
They ran through the rugged mountain paths, weaving between rocks and crags, until at last, Gandalf spotted a dense forest in the distance.
"There!" he shouted, pointing to the treeline. "We may be able to lose them in there!"
The company pushed themselves harder, the prospect of escape driving their legs to move faster than they thought possible. They crashed into the forest, branches whipping against their faces, but none of them dared slow down. The howls of the wargs grew fainter as the trees closed in around them, giving them a momentary reprieve.
Once deep within the forest, Gandalf halted, raising his staff. With a quiet chant in a language Sirius didn't recognize, Gandalf used his magic to obscure their tracks, hiding any trace of their path from the orcs.
"We should be safe for now," Gandalf said, though his expression remained cautious.
The dwarves collapsed on the forest floor, panting heavily, their muscles burning from the long run. Sirius stood nearby, his eyes scanning the treeline, ever alert. He could still feel the tension in the air, as if something else was nearby. It wasn't the orcs—this was different.
"Do you hear that?" he asked Gandalf, narrowing his eyes as he listened closely.
Before Gandalf could respond, a distant scream pierced the air. It was a strange, high-pitched voice, shouting angrily.
"Thieves! Enemies!" the voice echoed through the forest.
Everyone in the company stood up, alarmed.
"Now what?" Balin muttered, looking around.
The voice grew closer, and suddenly, bursting through the underbrush came the most bizarre sight. A wizard, dressed in tattered brown robes, came hurtling toward them on a sled—pulled by a team of rabbits. They weren't ordinary rabbits, though; they were enormous, powerful, and moved with incredible speed.
Sirius blinked in surprise. "What in Merlin's name…?"
The sled skidded to a halt in front of the company, and the brown-robed wizard hopped off, his wild hair and beard full of leaves and twigs. His eyes were wide with concern as he looked around at the company, then fixed his gaze on Gandalf.
"Gandalf! What are you doing here?" the wizard demanded. "The orcs are swarming these mountains! You've led them straight into the wild!"
Gandalf smiled, a rare look of genuine relief on his face. "Radagast, my old friend," he said, stepping forward. "I could say the same to you. What brings you to these parts?"
Radagast, still agitated, looked around nervously before glancing at the sky. "I've been following strange signs. Dark things are stirring. The animals are uneasy. Something foul is spreading through the land." He turned to the group. "Who are these?" His eyes fell on the dwarves, and then on Sirius.
"These are Thorin Oakenshield's company. We are on an important journey, one that must not fail," Gandalf explained.
Sirius, still taken aback by the rabbits, stepped forward. "Jimmy Potter," he introduced himself, unable to resist asking, "That sled of yours—is it enchanted? How do you get those rabbits to pull it so fast?"
Radagast, in his distracted way, glanced at his sled with pride. "Ah, the Rhosgobel rabbits! Fastest in all the land. I raised them myself, and yes, there's a bit of magic to it."
Sirius grinned, clearly impressed. He could already feel his mind working, imagining the possibilities. "I'll have to get one of those for myself."
Thorin, however, wasn't as amused. "We don't have time for rabbits or sleds," he said gruffly. "We need to get as far away from the orcs as possible."
Radagast nodded, but his expression grew serious again. "The orcs aren't your only problem. There's something darker at work here. I've sensed it in the forest—corruption, spreading from the south."
Gandalf's face grew more somber. "I fear you are right, Radagast. The enemy is on the move."
Radagast's rabbits shifted uneasily, sensing their master's tension. "You must be careful. These mountains are dangerous, but there are things far worse than orcs that walk these lands now."
The company exchanged uneasy glances. As if the Misty Mountains weren't dangerous enough, now they had the warning of an even greater threat looming over them.
"Come," Gandalf said. "We must make haste. We still have a long way to go, and we cannot afford to linger."
Radagast grinned wildly as he offered his plan, clearly excited by the prospect of a chase. "It's been far too long since I've had a proper race with orcs!" he exclaimed. "I'll lead them off your trail. They won't know what hit them."
Before anyone could protest or object to the risky idea, Radagast had already mounted his sled, the magical rabbits springing into action as the sled shot forward at an incredible speed. The dwarves and Sirius watched in awe as Radagast weaved through the trees, his rabbits bounding effortlessly over rocks and roots.
"He's mad," Thorin muttered, shaking his head, though there was a trace of admiration in his voice. "But I'll give him credit for bravery."
From their vantage point, they could already see the orc riders closing in on Radagast. Yet, just as the wargs were about to reach him, Radagast's sled veered to the side in a sharp turn, his rabbits darting around a rocky outcrop and out of sight. The orcs snarled in frustration, struggling to keep up as Radagast toyed with them, allowing them to come close, only to dash away again just as they thought they had him.
Sirius couldn't help but grin at the display, impressed not only by Radagast's fearless antics but also by the agility of the rabbits and the magical sled. He leaned toward Gandalf, still watching as Radagast spun circles around the orc party. "I've got to get one of those sleds," Sirius muttered with a smile. "I could outrun just about anything on that."
Gandalf chuckled lightly. "You'd have to ask Radagast for his secrets. Though I doubt he'd part with those rabbits."
As the orcs roared in anger, Radagast made a show of slowing down just enough to tempt them into thinking they could catch him, only to speed up again at the last moment. It was clear that Radagast was enjoying himself, turning the pursuit into a game as he kept the orcs completely occupied.
Thorin's eyes remained focused, though, and he turned to the others with a sharp command. "We don't have time to watch Radagast's show. He's given us a chance, and we need to take it."
Gandalf nodded in agreement, already looking toward the path that led away from the chase. "Quickly now, before the orcs realize they've been fooled."
The company wasted no time, gathering their packs and weapons, and began their journey in the opposite direction. The forest, dense with shadows and thick trees, swallowed them as they moved swiftly and quietly. With Radagast drawing the attention of the orcs, they were able to escape unnoticed.
Sirius, still impressed by the display, couldn't resist one last glance over his shoulder. In the distance, he saw Radagast's sled shoot past, the orcs struggling to keep up, their furious shouts and the wargs' howls fading as they were led further away. Radagast's laughter echoed faintly, a sound of wild glee as he continued to make a mockery of their pursuers.
As they moved deeper into the forest, Thorin glanced at Gandalf. "Do you think he'll be alright?" he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice.
Gandalf nodded. "Radagast knows these woods better than anyone. He'll lose them when he tires of the chase." He gave a small smile. "And knowing Radagast, he may even enjoy it for a while longer."
With the orcs successfully drawn away, the company pressed forward, the tension slowly easing. But Sirius's mind still lingered on the image of Radagast and his magical rabbits. He couldn't help but think that if he ever found himself in such a situation again, having a sled like that wouldn't be such a bad idea.
As they continued through the forest, the sound of Radagast's chase eventually faded into silence, and the company set their sights on their next destination, moving swiftly through the dark woods with no sign of pursuit.
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