[Garen LiLorian]

Gormel ran down a dark tunnel, sweat pouring from every inch of his heavily muscled body. Eyes gleamed at him from every side, teeth long and sharp snapped at his heels. Then, abruptly, he was free. He turned and howled, a long, drawn out sound of triumph. His howl was echoed.

He spun, slow as cold honey. He felt the awful weight of the thing crashing down onto him, the rancid breath two inches from his face, the mighty claws scratching furrows into the flesh of his arms and torso. Then there was pain, and a howl of a different sort. His left shoulder disappeared in red, and all he saw was the yellow of the great beasts eyes, closing in...

Gormel awoke with a sound too guttural to be a scream and too panicked to be anything else. He started to bring his hands up to defend, to hold the beast away from him, but his shoulder caused him to collapse back, whining softly like a hurt animal. The camp was dark. Night had fallen, and those who had survived the great animals attack were huddled around a campfire, blazing bright into the darkness.

Gormel tested his shoulder, and winced sharply as the pain flared through it. The dressing was good and tight, though. He wondered who had taken the trouble. Bhurthnin was no healer, and he knew full well there were many in his band who would sooner drag a knife across his throat than bind his wounds. He wondered also who had been dragged off by the beasts. He felt for his sword. Not there. His spear, the haft snapped, lay at his right hand, though, and he palmed the point. If someone was looking to lead the thieves, this would be an excellent time finish the Warg's work. That someone would have a surprise waiting, though, Gormel thought, and grinned through the haze of pain. Had to keep awake... "A sleeping sheep hears no wolves" he thought, and grinned again. Different wolves, though. Just had to keep...

Gormel ran down a dark tunnel...

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Garen LiLorian ]