* Giles clutched the round metal barrow shield in one hand, and a blazing torch in the other. He frowned, thinking how it would have made no sense right yet to loan the shield to Autumn, as she had both hands full with bow and arrow. His stomach after early bedtime had mostly recovered from the barrage of fish stew, settled into a tolerable dull ache. Celendine was gone. *
* Some of the wolves had grown bold enough to try and dash through the circle. One snarled charging towards Giles, but Giles stood at the ready. With nightmarish speed he thrust the torch against the onrushing wolf's neck. A satisfying sizzle of singed fur and roasting flesh sprang up. The wolf sprang back. Not only was a patch of fur completely burnt off from the area, but the fire removed the skin underneath as well, leaving a deep mark like a black eclipsed moon after swallowing up the last light of copper-red glare. But the trickling flames did not spread, for the wolf threw itself down yelping to roll in the snow. *
* A warg, seeing its downed ally, cried revenge and hurled itself atop Giles. Giles raised his shield at the last instant and huddled under it. The warg brought Giles crashing down, pinning the Hobbit beneath the shield. The torch, knocked from his grasp, flew through the air and landed on the back of the wolf that though dead, still pinned Carl to the ground. Meanwhile, the warg lurched its jaws towards Giles, ending up instead with a mouthful of brown wool cloak. Giles frantically squirmed out of the cloak and ran for it, having to leave his shield behind, for it had gotten entangled in the cloak. *
* Giles drew his red and gold serpent dagger from out of its black sheath to wield the weapon in his right hand. Rummaging around his vest pocket, he breathed a sigh of relief as he found his salt-and-pepper containers still there. He drew out the pepper shaker as though it were a magic treasure of Elf-make and looked around, wondering where to go. *
[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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