Lotho had been frozen with shock, and jerked back to his senses at Branda's frantic yells. He swiftly drew out his knife and raced towards Emerald. He could hear a dog snuffling at his feet; he felt its hot breath on his ankle. He furiously whipped around and slashed at the dog, which fell back with a whimper.
Emerald was lying face down in the snow.
Lotho let out a strangled yell and quicly turned her over. Her face was a greenish colour; drained of blood. He hoisted her up over his shoulders and tried to run as fast as he could: he didn't know where...just a place where they could be safe.
Blood roared in his ears and his throat was dry. He was starting to tire.. wait! There was the road! He forced himself to go on and gently lay the young hobbit beside it. He jerked as he suddenly remembered the sound of a pleading voice- a female voice. The image of a distressed young hobbit came into his mind.
Daffodyl! He had left her! He couldn't go back now. He hoped against hope that one of the others had managed to rescue her. Heart pounding madly, he looked at the hobbit lying absolutely still. He laid an ear to her mouth, and was very slightly reassured to hear faint breathing. He could do nothing more but wait for the attack to cease and for the rest of the party to regroup.
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