The hunter becomes the hunted

Deathwulf watched the shadowy figure as it made its way through the trees, heading towards the Great River, also called the Anduin.  All during the long walk, the shadowy figure would stop and check on its injured wing, all the while muttering to itself.  And all along the way, the warg watched and waited patiently, knowing his time would come as well.  When it did, Deathwulf knew he could easily kill the shadowy figure, but he also knew that one small step of over-confidence could be his downfall, as well.  Along the trek, he randomly checked to see if there was anything tracking him, but it always turned up empty.  He didn’t know if the shadowy figure knew that Deathwulf was tracking it, but it didn’t seem to care.  It continued in its general direction and occasionally checked its wing.

A narrow escape

The shadowy figure saw something fall out of the corner of its eye.  It hovered above the cave floor momentarily and looked at the warg… the warg was still passed out.  After a moment’s indecision, it landed, setting the warg off to the side.  It went to the object on the ground and picked it up.  A chicken bone? It gave itself a once-over to ensure nothing was sticking to it.  It paused in its looking and sniffed the air.. it sniffed again and then sniffed the bone.  Warg scent! It eyed the warg slyly.  So… pretending to be sleeping… can fix that! It let out a low cackle as it went swiftly towards the cave entrance.

Feigning unconsciousness

Deathwulf was flown through the air in a rush.  Granted, the shadowy figure made an effort to make sure nothing hit the warg while in the air, but the way Deathwulf was tied up was anything but comfortable.  It would take a while to stand, as the blood had left his paws a long time ago and the circulation wasn’t there.  Deathwulf was determined, however, to find out where or who he was being taken to… whatever it took.  While he hoped everyone else was spared during the battle on the pass, he didn’t have the luxury of worrying about them.  He kept his eyes closed knowing that the shadowy figure knew where he was going, or that he was eventually going to die… that was a risk with any mission, and didn’t fear him in the least.  He felt a pang of guilt for those he would leave behind, but that was quickly banished from his mind with the task at hand.

The search is on

One eye opened.  It scanned the dark, snowy area before the other eye opened.  With both eyes open, the shadowy figure picked itself off the ground, shook itself off and tested itself to make sure all of its joints were in place and functioning.  When it was satisfied that everything seemed in place, it began to walk away.  Then it suddenly stopped and cocked its head, as if it were trying to remember.  It looked behind it, from where it had come, and saw a mound.  The shadowy figure hissed in glee and skipped over to the mound.  It poked at the mound briefly, but there was no movement.  It watched the mound for a length of time, and saw the slow rise and fall of its slow breathing.

A trap on the pass

The wargs slowly moved in for the kill.  Tregoan had his bow drawn and aimed at the middle warg.  The warg seemed to smile as it crouched down, ready to pounce.  The other two wargs moved to either side of the hunter, knowing that even if he took one down, the other two would have an easy kill.  The hunter released his bow and hit his target… the shaft protruded out of the center of the warg’s head, dead before it fell over in a heap.  The other two wargs howled in rage and leapt at Tregoan.