[Earendil Halfelven]

He watched as Aerin went into the woods alone. She did not heed his warning, but then again they were still in the Eastfarthing of the Shire. He began to play his fife. The eerie tunes floated out into the darkness.
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“Turthôl!” came a cry from the dark.
Turthôl lowered his fife.
“Aerin, what is it?” he asked in alarm.
“Wild Men!” said Aerin. “They’re hunting us and they’re coming this way! I overheard them plotting in the forest!”
Turthôl didn’t stop to think. He ran to where the rest of the company was sitting by the fire.
“Pack up camp! Cannibalistic Wild Men are headed this way!” he shouted.
“But I just set up me tent,” Wren complained.

I knew that tent would be trouble, thought Turthôl. Everyone was packing up their stuff, and those with horses were mounting them. He had no horse, so he figured he'd bring up the rear on foot and kill any Wild Men that came up.

"How many did you see?" he called to Aerin.
"About six, I think," Aerin answered.

"What are Wild Men doing so far north?" wondered Rangar out loud.

"Beats me, but they shall not return home!" answered Turthôl.

He could see that the Elf, Enien, was preparing to make a stand. So were the others. Turthôl took out his bow and quiver of arrows that were slung around his back. He notched an arrow to the string, and peered out into the gloom. He could hear them coming. They were big, by the sound of it.

"Fresh meat! We shall feast tonight!" came a harsh voice up ahead. Turthôl took aim at the voice and fired. A scream pierced the night air. He had found his target.
He quickly brought another arrow up, and notched it. He took aim.

[ May 03, 2003: Message edited by: Earendil Halfelven ]