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Old 07-13-2008, 05:11 PM   #22
Durelin
Estelo dagnir, Melo ring
 
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Join Date: Oct 2002
Posts: 3,121
Durelin is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Durelin is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
“Will you let me help you?”

Parkun’s initial reaction to Ash’s offer and question was surprise and anger bordering on disgust. No, he did not want the boy to help him. They all thought he was so weak…

Kun did his best to look thankful, and hoped any other emotion might be passed off for pain. He was in pain, after all. He still took Ash’s arm hesitantly, and at first he let hardly any of his weight fall on the younger man. After picking up the pace a bit, though, he found himself actually using Ash for support. His skin tingled with his disgust at having himself practically held up by the boy.

Suddenly everyone froze as they heard howling from somewhere deeper in the forest to their right. Kun doubted himself for a couple moments, and went back to walking slowly when the group began moving again. He was all but forced to move more quickly, and they drew near the clearing in which he had first encountered the wargs sooner than he liked.

From the clearing came a loud, growling battle cry that sounded as if it were in another language, as well as yelps and growls less human…or dwarf.

Much too soon.

Kun felt like he was being tackled suddenly, as the new dwarf actually embraced him. The man felt truly disgusted this time, but that was not what kept him rooted to where he stood. Icy panic enveloped him. He felt cold, faint, numb, and like he needed desperately to empty his stomach all at once. He felt he was being choked. He was going to die…

What had the Dwarf said? “Let us hasten to him before the battle is won.”

Could Kuric really take on five wargs? But no, there were not necessarily all five. They had heard howling from somewhere else on their way here. He had brought them too early, and they were all supposed to be brought together. This was no longer a trap. At least not for the “defenders of Bree.”

He was going to die.

~*~*~*~

Dûrkoth stared at the short two-leg’s body. No, he would not be getting up again. But neither would Snagath, or Carchel. As Agarcarag and Morfin sniffed the dying two-leg and licked at his blood, Dûrkoth stood over Carchel’s twitching form. He was trying to get up, but he would receive no help from his comrades. His eyes were wide with pain and fear, though they had already begun to cloud over. It did not seem Carchel’s eyes could widen any further, but they did as they gazed up at Dûrkoth.

“It’s called ‘death,’ Carchel,” the large, silver-backed Warg grunted. “It comes quickly to the weak…and the foolish.”

Dûrkoth would have watched his minion die with interest, but he caught a scent…several scents…close.

“More two-legs!” Dûrkoth growled. It was too late to hide and lay in wait. And he would play no more games with these two-legs. He would save the skinny, bright-furred one to devour last, so he could pick at him slowly with an already full stomach.
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