Ain was concealed, nestled in the branches of a large oak tree, sitting perfectly still and silent as she had been doing for the past four hours. She had not moved an inch in all that time, and her stallion, who was tied up several hundred yards away, had not made any sounds or sudden movements either.
Her longbow was draw, her arrow was cocked, and yet, still she made no move. The orcs were laughing merrily as they brought more prisoners into the encampment. Not her business. Not her problem. Her gray eyes, as fierce as a falcon's and as cold as ice, locked in a perpetual glare, were fixated on the camp. She was here to study. Kill and study and learn more about the orcs and their physiology and their weaknesses. Weaknesses that she could exploit, if need be. The wind was still blowing her scent away from the orcs. She was safe, from them at least.
She drew back her bow and gently pulled back her muddy travel cloak to make her shot-if she ever decided to shoot-more precise. She treasured every arrow in her quiver, and wasting a shot on an orc would be a personal disgrace.
"One," she whispered to herself, so quietly that only she could hear, as she leveled her bow at a laughing orc who was had his back to her. "I say one arrow, right to that hollow of his neck, just above that mail-shirt, and he'll die right away. Never did get the chance to study these creatures enough," she mused, pulling back the string as tight as it would go. "What a fine opportunity."
She took little notice of the newest of the orcs leading the Elven prisoners into the tents. She didn't care about them. The jayfeather tail of her nocked arrow flitted lightly in the breeze.
In the midst of all their merrymaking, the orcs didn't hear the small twang! of an arrow leaving its string. They did notice, however, one of their kinsman fall dead where he stood, a mahogany arrow tipped with bluejay feathers protruding from the back of his throat. Uproar and confusion immediatly followed.
Ain chuckled. It feels so good to stretch, she thought as she nocked another arrow and struck silently again.
[ June 08, 2002: Message edited by: Aiwyn of the Eorlingas ]
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"But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn am I, Éomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him!" -Éowyn, The Battle of Pelennor Fields
Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have...a penny.
There are approximatley 170 days until the release of 'The Two Towers'...ARRRRRRGGG!!!!!
Thank you for not smoking
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