Fìriel

almost believing

The orcs came upon us. Without hesitation, Henadan begins slashing at the orcs with his broadsword, bringing down whatever within reach. I stand farther back shooting whatever I can.

These are just orcs, not people, I think to myself, I'm not one for violence. In fact, I usually try to avoid it. It's almost like a job description. I know this was a situation that you kill, or be killed: therefore, I tried to make every shot count.

I shoot an incredibly close orc to Henadan, it didn't kill it, though I had pierced it close enough to the heart. The orc again tried to swing at Henadan and he blocked the blow awkwardly, leaving his other side open longer than he intended, giving another orc a spot to sink it's ugly blade into.

I reach up to my quiver, alas, it was now empty. I quickly grab my saxe* and shorter knife and ram them into the foul creature's weak spot in its armor, just in time before it struck a fatal blow to Henadan.

The night smelt of foul orc blood, on our clothes, more so on Henadan than I, and on the ground. Battle cries fill the once quiet, peaceful night, from both sides.

There's just about four more orcs left and I am confronted by the last standing warg, all by myself, as Henadan was occupied.

The snarling, evil looking beast stared at me, looking at what it would call me a potential early breakfast. It's yellowy-brown eyes were slitted, it's ears back, it was ready to pounce.

I equally stood ready, breathing hard, my hair sticking to black blood on my face, with my short but sturdy knives in front of me.

"Come on then!" I snarled to it, prodding it, and starting our little gambit.

It snarled in response and then finally charged, I easily stepped out of the way, knowing its move. As it passed I ran my saxe blade along its left side. The large canine-like thing yelped and turned quickly on me, snapping at me with its huge jaws filled with razor sharp, nasty teeth. I barely got out of reach and I clumsy slashed at it with my smaller knife.

I regain my balance as the warg charged at me once again, I attempt to dodge it, but the beast predicted this, and finally tackled me to the ground.

I hear Henadan cry out, though I cannot spare my focus on anything but the warg currently trying to maul me. It was now pinning me down with its enormous weight and snapped it's sharp, ugly, brown teeth at me; playing with me, as a cat would a small mouse.

I see an opportunity to get a good jab with my saxe and I take it, burying it within its black open mouth, thankfully killing it instantly. It collapsed on top of me, knocking the wind out of me, I struggled to get out from under it, but I cannot lift the thing, so slowly I somehow wiggle my way out.

Taking time to regain much needed air, I survey my surroundings, foul bodies lay all over the pathway in the forest that we were in. I look for Henadan, he was finishing up the last orc, I walk up as he impales it.

"Are you alright?" I ask, wiping blood off my hands, it's hard to tell in this light if it's mine or if it's the warg's.

"I have a few scratches." He answered acting as if nothing happened, already starting to clean his blade. I come up to look closer at him, he has a dark stain coming from his leg.

"That's not a scatch." I pointed out.

He looks down quickly, with a surprised look on his face. "Oh." is all he said.

"'Oh'? You can't feel that?" I ask, concerned now. I bent down and looked at the wound, he should totally feel that, it's deep looking, even in the moonlight I could tell.