The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post

piosenniel · 12-04-2002, 07:08 PM

This place of Men smelled much like the others he had known. The sweet smell of prey and fresh flesh mingled with the acrid stink of smoke and sweat and the sour odor of underlying fear. Even the scent of the Elves rankled him. His lips drew back from his sharp teeth and a low growl fled him as he smelt their fair fragrance, like “everlasting spring neath showers that glitter silver in the grass in Valinor.” He smiled, in his own way, at that line of poetry – the last Elf he had had for dinner recited it prettily for him. A lovely prelude to a meal . . .

Another undercurrent came to him, carried by the day’s soft breezes. Dwarves! Smelling of earth and rock and charred meats and soured mashes. Dwarves, with their wicked, sharp axes. Fierce when cornered, and quick on their short, stout legs. Then the smells of frightened ponies and horses. He could almost sense their eyes wide with fear and the lather on their flanks as they ran from him. They were nervous now, sensing his heavy presence.

‘Kuduk!’ ‘Periain!’ came the twinned voices of his son and daughter as a lighter scent now carried to them. Their great red tongues hung out between their sharp fangs as yellow eyes gleamed in remembrance of those sweet morsels.

High, on a distant hill, the three waited for nightfall. Grey shapes, unmoving, amid the shadows of the grey rocky outcropping .

[ December 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

12-04-2002, 07:08 PM	#173
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	This place of Men smelled much like the others he had known. The sweet smell of prey and fresh flesh mingled with the acrid stink of smoke and sweat and the sour odor of underlying fear. Even the scent of the Elves rankled him. His lips drew back from his sharp teeth and a low growl fled him as he smelt their fair fragrance, like “everlasting spring neath showers that glitter silver in the grass in Valinor.” He smiled, in his own way, at that line of poetry – the last Elf he had had for dinner recited it prettily for him. A lovely prelude to a meal . . . Another undercurrent came to him, carried by the day’s soft breezes. Dwarves! Smelling of earth and rock and charred meats and soured mashes. Dwarves, with their wicked, sharp axes. Fierce when cornered, and quick on their short, stout legs. Then the smells of frightened ponies and horses. He could almost sense their eyes wide with fear and the lather on their flanks as they ran from him. They were nervous now, sensing his heavy presence. ‘Kuduk!’ ‘Periain!’ came the twinned voices of his son and daughter as a lighter scent now carried to them. Their great red tongues hung out between their sharp fangs as yellow eyes gleamed in remembrance of those sweet morsels. High, on a distant hill, the three waited for nightfall. Grey shapes, unmoving, amid the shadows of the grey rocky outcropping . [ December 04, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.