[GreatWarg]

Khelek ran swiftly through the forest, sure-footed and silent. He knew these woods well; every tree and stone, river and dell. He had just had a successful hunt and would last a day or two more without food. As the sun started sinking and the mists strayed into the wood from the river, the wolf neared an inn that he was well-accustumed to. Few ever saw him, but he would sneak around the back and find a nice firewood pile to sleep against. He happened to come around the back, sticking to the shadows, nothing more than a silent ghost, when he saw a large man speaking to an Elf.

They both weilded daggers, and seemed to have a certain malice within them. "Obnoxious thiefs," the wolf thought to himself. "Up to no good, by the scent of their adrenaline." The wolf's keen ears caught the words 'steal' and 'Silmaril,' and he did not need to hear anymore to know that they intended to go after one of the rarest of Elf jewels. And the only one that could be even slightly known to thiefs was from the House of Thingol.

"Ah, so they plan to steal from Elf-lords, eh? Well, they'll have something to deal with." The wolf curled up against a pile of firewood, sniffing the air for the Elf and man to come out again.