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"Ah, Ly--" Darash nealy called out in her joy and relief at finding one of her companions. She was knocked to the side by an orc trying to get away from the brawling, but luckily she was knocked right into Lyshka's path. It would look natural and normal for them to have words together.
Feinting irritation, the two engaged in a pantomime of threats and taunts and raised fists at each other, which enabled them to try, as best they could given their lack of knowledge of the Common Tongue, to explain their position. Lyshka still had her sense of direction; she knew where Grash's path was and unobstrusively pointed it out to Darash. For her part, the Amazon whispered Raeis's name and nodded towards the spot where Morgoroth had made his sacrifice. Luckily, the arrival of the hissing, terrifying, flying creature had confused all the orcs and some hidden command had drawn their attention elsewhere, so the threat of discovery was overcome for the most part.
The two women, hunched over with hoods covering their heads, encumbered by the thick, heavy, crudely-worked leather of their orcish jerkins, moved in a zigzag fashion over towards the now still body of the elf. They could not risk a call to either Raeis or Morgoroth but they saw out of the corner of their eyes Brór's success with Zuromor. Jeren, where Jeren?, thought Darash to herself as they neared Morgoroth. She suddenly caught sight of Aldor and froze for a moment as the sensation of needles pricking her body was revived, the same sensation she felt when this thing called a Wraith came overhead. She risked a glance at Lyshka, who had seen Aldor also, but she could not tell if the Easterling woman felt the same sensation. Slowly they were making their way towards the striken elf.
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