It made no difference that these had once been good, working farm dogs. They were now wild, savage beasts who lived by their strength and cunning. Even as Bullroarer was rushing in amongst them, clearing a swath with his thick cudgel, the dogs split into groups and began to separate the woodgatherers one from the other, herding them away from their defenders.
Nearest to the advancing line of armed Hobbits were the Gaddy and then Daffodyl, both being harried and having legs bitten by the three dogs each that now attacked them.
Emerald, her eyes wide with horror and her arms still clutching the firewood she had gathered, was pushed the farthest from the defenders, and they heard her screams as the dogs bore her down . . .
[ December 05, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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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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