Post by Móreadhiel on Jun 13, 2006 15:33:35 GMT -5
He could hear the hard paws reverberating in the ground and he could feel the harsh November breeze whistling in his sensitive ears and rushing at his unprotected face.
This was not what he had pictured running away to be like. He had heard many stories from boys in the adan villages, orphan boys that had run away to a blissful life of choice and freedom.
Harfin’s breathing increased as the black stallion hurried faster and faster trying to escape the wolves iron jaws.
Neighing hysterically, he slowed his gallop and kicked out in fury and fright.
“Easy!” Aragorn tightened his grip upon the beast’s black mane.
Both man and horse whirled around until they felt dizzy, Harfin’s hooves kicking out at the wolves; though they seldom, now that he was so wobbly, found their target. One stroke might hit a miscellaneous wolf head.
Swaying a bit, in confusion and exhaustion, Harfin tried to continue onward, his hoof-beats followed by the hard clap of paws against the earth.
The big, black horse felt his young rider hanging on tight and shivering the cold that was continuing to flow into his light clothes.
Harfin bucked and kicked and the ride became increasingly difficult for his young master. Aragorn, though trained well in the arts of horseback riding was having a difficult time keeping on the horse.
The boy heard a sharp neigh of annoyance as one of the more anxious wolves snapped hard at one of Harfin’s back legs.
The stallion thrust both his strong, black legs up; his back end flying up and Aragorn with a cry of surprise soaring through the cold air.
He landed on his stomach, all senses alert and nothing lacking save his sight. But as always, his ear did that job for him.
Without hesitation or extra thought, he leaped to his feet and began to run. He heard the patter and yelps of the following wolves. Thankfully, most of them had stayed to bring Harfin down.
Estel felt a tear stream down his cheek, that horse had been his best friend before he had meet Legolas and now that the prince hated him, Aragorn felt that Harfin was his only friend. That horse was the only one that still cared.
Four sets of loping paws echoed in his perfect ears, he felt a sort of betrayal when a sharp piercing pain ripped through his left leg.
His ears, they had not warned him! He had not known the wolves to be that close, but they were! And now, he was paying for it!
Hot tears trickled down his cheeks as he felt his body being thrown forward, yet being held back the iron jaws of the wolf that held him.
“Lerya! Lerya nin!”
Hoping with a fierce spirit that this elvish command might help, he tried to rip his torn leg away from the filthy jaws.
A few whimpers and a low whine came to the boy’s ears, but the beast did not release his leg; in fact, if it were even possible. He was sure it had tightened.
He gritted his teeth and continued to pull, he would never make it out if he did not get free.
A howl from behind sent the biting beast into a tirade. He began to throw his head from side to side, shaking Estel’s bloody, ripped leg along with him.
An unearthly scream wrenched into the air and Aragorn cursed himself for being so weak, sweat beaded on his forehead and he let himself slip down to the dusty ground.
“Ada-” he sobbed, closing his sightless as if to hide them from the rest of the world. “Avatyara nin! Aquista!” feeling the yellow teeth sink deeper into his flesh, Aragorn cried out.
With a rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins, Estel kicked his uninjured foot up so it hit the wolf square in the jaw.
Yelping in shock, the attacker reared back and shook his large head angrily, the angry glint in his moonlit eyes sparkling.
Of course, this was in the man’s favor. He saw none of this, he only heard the growl and the bristle of fur as the leader bunched his muscles, ready to pounce on his prey.
Hearing the shift of weight, Aragorn reached to his hidden dagger belt and drew the weapon, the wolf never saw himself reach the ground thanks to the metal that went straight through his heart.
Rolling away from the snarls, Estel leapt onto one foot, leaning heavily on the right leg and slowly drawing his sword.
The blade glinted in the light of the glowing moon and many of the smarter wolves took a immediate step back. Once looked at it’s leader’s fallen form and took a tentative step forward.
Aragorn heard the shuffle of stones come toward him, he took a wobbly step backwards but found the his feet met nothing.
As he continued to listen, he heard the rushing and gurgle of water into hard and unforgiving rocks.
A cliff! Oh Eru! Why a cliff?!
He quickly stepped back with a hiss and brought his sword out before him, waiting for a sound. Any sound.
That sound came, but as he swung he felt a heavy impact come for his body. Aragorn knew, at that instant, that he would not live through this.
NO! His thoughts snapped back and as he was pushed from the cliff edge, he grasped blindly for something to hold onto, anything!
He cried out as his tunic was clawed through by the dying wolf, he felt blood trickle down his side and a lightheadedness came over his entire being.
Estel, without giving permission to his hands, felt himself plunge away from the cliff and into the ever-present darkness beneath.
The last sound he heard as he fell was the final cry of the wolf as it’s body smashed onto the rocks beneath.
~_~
Legolas’s head snapped round as he listened for some sort of sign.
He had been traveling for a few hours now, his steed going at a slow trot and his mind ever-focused on finding his best friend.
But as the hours went by, he continued to find nothing save the print of horse hooves in the earth. He knew not if they were Harfin’s or another horses.
“ M-make has-ste, Amo-n!” he whispered, blushing slightly at the fact that he still was stuttering over his words. An elf was supposed to speak with fair words and a lovely voice. But not him, he groaned out loud.
Even though his master’s words were difficult to understand, Amon broke into a lope and whinnied as if to say something. It felt as if he was speaking words of wisdom and encouragement.
The prince smiled and patted his white horse upon the neck .
“Go-od B-boy, Amon.”
Rearing a little, the white steed leapt forward and continued his steady dash, dust and grime kicking up behind his powerful hooves.
Ahead, the prince could hear a wolf’s howl, but he could not tell quite how far ahead it was or exactly what was going on.
He knew that the beast was calling his pack to eat. This was no great reassurance for Legolas. In fact, the sound made his heart thump harder.
“H-hur-ry, A-amon! N-noro lim!”
This was not what he had pictured running away to be like. He had heard many stories from boys in the adan villages, orphan boys that had run away to a blissful life of choice and freedom.
Harfin’s breathing increased as the black stallion hurried faster and faster trying to escape the wolves iron jaws.
Neighing hysterically, he slowed his gallop and kicked out in fury and fright.
“Easy!” Aragorn tightened his grip upon the beast’s black mane.
Both man and horse whirled around until they felt dizzy, Harfin’s hooves kicking out at the wolves; though they seldom, now that he was so wobbly, found their target. One stroke might hit a miscellaneous wolf head.
Swaying a bit, in confusion and exhaustion, Harfin tried to continue onward, his hoof-beats followed by the hard clap of paws against the earth.
The big, black horse felt his young rider hanging on tight and shivering the cold that was continuing to flow into his light clothes.
Harfin bucked and kicked and the ride became increasingly difficult for his young master. Aragorn, though trained well in the arts of horseback riding was having a difficult time keeping on the horse.
The boy heard a sharp neigh of annoyance as one of the more anxious wolves snapped hard at one of Harfin’s back legs.
The stallion thrust both his strong, black legs up; his back end flying up and Aragorn with a cry of surprise soaring through the cold air.
He landed on his stomach, all senses alert and nothing lacking save his sight. But as always, his ear did that job for him.
Without hesitation or extra thought, he leaped to his feet and began to run. He heard the patter and yelps of the following wolves. Thankfully, most of them had stayed to bring Harfin down.
Estel felt a tear stream down his cheek, that horse had been his best friend before he had meet Legolas and now that the prince hated him, Aragorn felt that Harfin was his only friend. That horse was the only one that still cared.
Four sets of loping paws echoed in his perfect ears, he felt a sort of betrayal when a sharp piercing pain ripped through his left leg.
His ears, they had not warned him! He had not known the wolves to be that close, but they were! And now, he was paying for it!
Hot tears trickled down his cheeks as he felt his body being thrown forward, yet being held back the iron jaws of the wolf that held him.
“Lerya! Lerya nin!”
Hoping with a fierce spirit that this elvish command might help, he tried to rip his torn leg away from the filthy jaws.
A few whimpers and a low whine came to the boy’s ears, but the beast did not release his leg; in fact, if it were even possible. He was sure it had tightened.
He gritted his teeth and continued to pull, he would never make it out if he did not get free.
A howl from behind sent the biting beast into a tirade. He began to throw his head from side to side, shaking Estel’s bloody, ripped leg along with him.
An unearthly scream wrenched into the air and Aragorn cursed himself for being so weak, sweat beaded on his forehead and he let himself slip down to the dusty ground.
“Ada-” he sobbed, closing his sightless as if to hide them from the rest of the world. “Avatyara nin! Aquista!” feeling the yellow teeth sink deeper into his flesh, Aragorn cried out.
With a rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins, Estel kicked his uninjured foot up so it hit the wolf square in the jaw.
Yelping in shock, the attacker reared back and shook his large head angrily, the angry glint in his moonlit eyes sparkling.
Of course, this was in the man’s favor. He saw none of this, he only heard the growl and the bristle of fur as the leader bunched his muscles, ready to pounce on his prey.
Hearing the shift of weight, Aragorn reached to his hidden dagger belt and drew the weapon, the wolf never saw himself reach the ground thanks to the metal that went straight through his heart.
Rolling away from the snarls, Estel leapt onto one foot, leaning heavily on the right leg and slowly drawing his sword.
The blade glinted in the light of the glowing moon and many of the smarter wolves took a immediate step back. Once looked at it’s leader’s fallen form and took a tentative step forward.
Aragorn heard the shuffle of stones come toward him, he took a wobbly step backwards but found the his feet met nothing.
As he continued to listen, he heard the rushing and gurgle of water into hard and unforgiving rocks.
A cliff! Oh Eru! Why a cliff?!
He quickly stepped back with a hiss and brought his sword out before him, waiting for a sound. Any sound.
That sound came, but as he swung he felt a heavy impact come for his body. Aragorn knew, at that instant, that he would not live through this.
NO! His thoughts snapped back and as he was pushed from the cliff edge, he grasped blindly for something to hold onto, anything!
He cried out as his tunic was clawed through by the dying wolf, he felt blood trickle down his side and a lightheadedness came over his entire being.
Estel, without giving permission to his hands, felt himself plunge away from the cliff and into the ever-present darkness beneath.
The last sound he heard as he fell was the final cry of the wolf as it’s body smashed onto the rocks beneath.
~_~
Legolas’s head snapped round as he listened for some sort of sign.
He had been traveling for a few hours now, his steed going at a slow trot and his mind ever-focused on finding his best friend.
But as the hours went by, he continued to find nothing save the print of horse hooves in the earth. He knew not if they were Harfin’s or another horses.
“ M-make has-ste, Amo-n!” he whispered, blushing slightly at the fact that he still was stuttering over his words. An elf was supposed to speak with fair words and a lovely voice. But not him, he groaned out loud.
Even though his master’s words were difficult to understand, Amon broke into a lope and whinnied as if to say something. It felt as if he was speaking words of wisdom and encouragement.
The prince smiled and patted his white horse upon the neck .
“Go-od B-boy, Amon.”
Rearing a little, the white steed leapt forward and continued his steady dash, dust and grime kicking up behind his powerful hooves.
Ahead, the prince could hear a wolf’s howl, but he could not tell quite how far ahead it was or exactly what was going on.
He knew that the beast was calling his pack to eat. This was no great reassurance for Legolas. In fact, the sound made his heart thump harder.
“H-hur-ry, A-amon! N-noro lim!”
