[Carrûn]

Rangers

Awyrgan limped along in a foul mood, dragging Thoronmir alongside him. He could feel a deep gash running along the top of his back where the deer's antlers had caught when he had tried to drop it quickly. Moreover, the heavy blow aimed at him that Thoronmir had blocked had struck his foot at an angle and the man was all but positive it was broken. A cut over his eye left a trail of blood trickling down his face.

He turned to his companion. Thoronmir was walking along in a daze, still somewhat stunned from the shield blow. Fortunately it had only been made of leather and other sturdy materials, or it might have taken his head right off. Bruises covered his forehead where the broad fist of the hillman had pummeled him. Thoronmir groaned and then spit out a broken tooth, cursing loudly.

The two walked on in silence, their instincts picking the shortest route back to the camp. Each had saved the other's life at least once in the fight, but neither thought much of it - it was to be expected. Awyrgan's thoughts hung on the deer they had left behind. Soon, he knew, the hillmen would return and claim it. Hopefully it would provide some distraction and delay any attack they might have been planning. Thoronmir meanwhile played the fight back over in his pounding skull, chiding himself for losing control of his sword.

A raven passed overhead, its cry echoing ominously in the dark. The two man shared a brief glance and then, still bleeding, broke into a run. They would need to cover in less than a night the distance they had traveled in two days. They ran in silence, their footsteps landing softly as only a Ranger could; their only sound was their labored breathing. Awyrgan tripped and was pulled roughly back on his feet by Thoronmir, who in turn stumbled and was caught by the younger man. They moved on in this fashion, their thoughts focused solely on reaching the camp.

It was early the next morning when they arrived. The camp was still deserted, nearly the entire settlement had taken part in the hunt. The dawn mists swirled about them as they broke through the shadow like some bizarre specter. A group of children ran crying from them as they passed through the outskirts of town towards their tents. It was eerily quiet. Reaching their makeshift camp they cast themselves down on the ground, gasping for breath. Awyrgan vomited as Thoronmir began to build a fire. The younger man did a quick priority check on his wounds and, taking of his boots, pulled the broken foot back into alignment. Silent tears rolled down his eyes as the adrenaline from the run wore off and the blood began to recirculate through the limb. He began to wrap it tightly. Meanwhile Thoronmir was boiling herbs for the splitting headache plaguing him. They treated each other in silent agony, waiting for Tane to arrive.