Carchmoroth counted heads once they retreated to their lair. He and Dúgoroth were whole, only minor bruisings. They would be sore for a few days only. Dûrêl was the one who had sustained a major wound. Her left flank was gashed, and blood still trickled from it when she moved. Of the Wolves, there were seven left, and they were sore and beaten. Nothing though that would not heal quickly.
Leaving Dûrêl at the lair to rest, he took Dúgoroth and the seven with him to hunt. They needed food and time to heal. Then they would return, and this time their prey would be the two-leggeds.
*****
The scent of the deer was strong on the air. The pack flanked them and cut two stragglers from the herd. Swiftly were they brought down, and swiftly killed. They took their fill on the killing ground then took a large haunch back to Dûrêl. Once she was healed, they would hunt the others . . .
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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