[the phantom]

It was one hour before dawn. The two wolves crouched behind a house, awaiting directions from Sauron. They had been there for two hours. Just before the two were about to enter the house and make their kill, Sauron's dark thought reached them and instructed them to wait, and so they waited.

At that moment, a cold wind rushed in from the northwest and swirled around the two wolves. The icy breath of air held words from Sauron, and the wolves understood every word.

Quickly and silently, the wolves sprinted away to the north of the village, turned to the west, and then turned again and approached Erbar Telamarth from the northwest. On the western end of the village there was a small hut that stood apart from the other houses. It was overlooked from the north by a small knoll. As they neared the knoll, they slowed their pace and stealthily crawled, foot by foot, towards the top.

As the wolves breasted the hill and looked down upon the hut, they saw exactly what Sauron said they would see- a man in a black cloak sitting with his back to them. It was the Ranger. He was guarding the occupant of the hut.

The wolves smiled at each other. They thought- He expects an attack upon the person inside the hut, and is prepared to stop such an attack, but he is not prepared for us to mount a surprise assault on him.

The wolves charged down the knoll and jumped at the Ranger with their jaws open and hands outstretched. The Ranger barely had time to gain his feet before he was struck by the pair. They landed directly on top of him, slamming his body into the ground. One wolf wrenched the Ranger's sword from his hand- so violently that it pulled the Ranger's arm out of its socket. At the same time, the other Werewolf slashed the Ranger's face with his scythe-like claws.

With his good arm, the Ranger pulled out a knife and drove it into the shoulder of the wolf that was slashing him, but the other wolf closed his jaws on the Ranger's wrist to stop him from striking again. While the Ranger's wrist was being held, the other wolf dug his claws into the Ranger's neck and squeezed with all of his animal strength.

After a short time, the Ranger stopped struggling. He was dead.

The wolves howled out their victory, waking all the villagers from their sleep.

On his throne upon Bald Hill, Sauron laughed with delight.