[Amanaduial the archer]

"Nura, please, give me a hand!"

The human girl appeared to snap out of her daze and register the scene for the first time. She looked down at the fool, appearing to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of the last ten minutes, and grabbed the fools feet. Together, they managed to manhandle him into a position whereby they could prop him against a tree. Nuhrive crouched down beside the fool and inspected his head, wincing; there were large splinters and dirt embedded in the wound. She dared not touch it; best to leave it to the elves at the Lorien Infirmary. But how to get there...

Standing, she looked around, and listened with her keen, pointed ears for sounds of other elves, or even humans. After a minute she heard low, muted voices carried on the wind, but could not distinguish what they said, muted as they were by the forest. She nodded, satisfyed; the voice sounded like that of Garen, one of the men living nearby Lorien. There was no way she and Nura would be able to get Harlon all the way back to Lorien, but with the help of others...

Once more she fixed her arms in a sturdy and practical position looped under Harlons arms, her fingers linked over his chest, with Nura holding his legs. On the count of three, they set of at a ragged but fairly steady pace in the direction of the voices...