The dark elf was motionless as both he and Anarya waited for the unknown enemy to pass. A few seconds passed. There was no mistaking the scent that wafed up to him. It was the foul stench of orcs!
His blood boiled as they grew closer. It was the young elven maiden's presence that stayed him. Caution was needed now, revenge could wait.
Rûdhchamion sharpened his senses and listened. He saw Anarya fidget, and motioned her to be still. He saw she had her bow strung and ready for any trouble.
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