The dark elf looked at the elf maiden silently. He had not dwelt on the matter, but simply did what was needed to be done. He took in her sight, still young in their race’s reckoning.
“I can not foresee what is ahead of us, though I do not deny the dangers,” he chose his words carefully. “I was once told that the spirit grows stronger, the heart bolder when our strength lessens, perhaps these are the times of such. I have sworn to find my kin’s slayers, but not just for vengeance, but to assure that no other –“
A sudden noise had made both elves tense suddenly. Anarya glanced quickly towards where Taralphiel and Khelek were resting. A shadow once again flew overhead, though its shape was hidden in the dense foliage of the trees. Its passing presence could be felt more rather than seen, like a cold winter chill in the dead of the night.
“The more we near our destination, the enemy’s minions seem to grow in strength, “ the dark elf said grimly after a time.
A soft rustling revealed both Khelek and Taralphiel peeking from their place of rest. They too had felt the passing shadow.
As the dark elf stood up and before any of his companions could cry out a warning, a huge black creature leaped upon him and knocked him down. Rûdhcamion was slammed into the rough trunk of the huge bole, his breath knocked out of him. Looking up he came face to face with what seemed to be a wolf-like giant- and suddenly realised it was a werewolf!
The creature was as black as night, its eyes as red as burning ember and its breath as foul as death. It reared up once again. The elf barely escaped as the creature swiped out with its long sharp claws.
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