The Warg

Cotte walked warily down the forested path. Every sound seemed extraordinarily loud to her hobbit ears. A snapping twig brought her to her toes, spear pointing to the origin. A small bird took flight, its trilling alarm plain for all to hear. Cotte felt like cursing. That blasted blue finch, if that was what it had been, had just given her position to the world.

Cotte knew she had just seconds to act. She dove into the bushes, doing her best to be quiet. Branches cracked under her armored boot, leaves and bushes grabbed at her. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks that her hair was under her helm. Behind her she could hear the sound of something else entering the brush behind her. The racket it made told her that whatever it was far faster than she was, and obviously wasn’t afraid of her hearing it. Cotte felt the first beginnings of a smile tug at her lips. It had grossly underestimated her, and that would be its first mistake.

A dense cluster of blackberry bushes gave good cover. She slammed the visor down to protect her face and dove headlong into the bush. She tried to calm her breathing as she listened to the pursuer stop just outside the thorny patch. Cotte cocked her head, hoping to hear better as a low growl drifted through the leaves. It sounded as if the predator was starting to circle her makeshift fort. The sound of soft footsteps made its way slowly to her left before fading slightly and emerging stronger on her right. Cotte took stock of her options.

The thing chasing her was running on four legs. That was bad; she couldn’t outrun it with her short legs. The impacts of the beast running up her legs said it was very big, maybe even Warg size. She figured she would at the very least have the advantage of being small enough that the warg could kill her in one bite. Less pain that way, Cotte supposed. However, dying wasn’t really an option she wanted, now was it?

A foul stench and the sound of sniffing told her the Warg was getting impatient with waiting for his prey to come out. It would have to be now. Cotte slithered towards the far edge of the patch, seeking the farthest point that she could get a head start. It would have to do.

Springing up from her belly, Cotte raced across the clearing. Behind her the odd, high-pitched howl of the Warg lent speed to her feet. Cotte was sure she could make it as far as the tree line before it caught her. A glance back over her shoulder confirmed her guess. The beast was on the far side of the patch from her, and was rushing AROUND to avoid the sharp brambles. That was a point in her favor.

The tree line surrounded Cotte as she began running beside and around the trunks. It was a slim chance that the Warg would be less agile than her, but she briefly entertained the notion that it might slip and plow into a tree at full speed. However she could hear it catching up steadily. Well, she hadnt really excpected that to work anyway, right? Shut up and run! Cotte threw the lastof her xstrength into her legs. Where...?

SHHHTHUNK! The arrow flashed by her ear, the goose feathers whistling. A loud yelp of pain and the sound of a hundred kilos of meat hitting the ground told Cotte what she needed to know. Glancing behind her, shecritically studied the placement of the arrow jutting out of the Warg's skull.

A quiet rustle interrupted her study and she frowned as she turned back to look atthe young bandit maid. She was dressed in rough leather armor with a small, wooden round shield on her back. Under the shield Cotte could see a quiver of arrows and a bow case, slightly worn from use. "Cutting it a little close there, weren't you?” Cotte asked sourly. Inside she was elated that Maria had done so well against a beast of the enemy. Not that she was going to tell her that, of course. No need to give her a swelled head.

The other woman looked a little uncomfortable. "I had meant to shoot sooner, but then you dodged left and I had to move and...Are you all right? Her human brown eyes met Cotte’s green ones. Cotte suppresses a sigh. One step forward brought another stepback.

"I'm fine. Nothing a little ale at the next inn won't cure. You did fine." Cotte assured her. A good Hobbiton ale." She specified. Shelooked backatthebody, anew idea popping into her head. "As a matter of fact, I just figured out our next move." Cotte said proudly. It was a great plan.

"What is that, mistress?" Maia's head cocked slightly as she tried to figure out the meaning.

"It's simple. Wargs have tough hides, much better than that bear you're wearing. We'll haveyou in that armor in no time."

The look of surprise, and then pleasure, told Cotte how well her idea had gone over.

"Do you think it will be hard to harvest the meat?" Maria asked.

A laugh erupted out of Cotte's chest, rocking her back on her heels. "Have you ever tried to eat Warg meat before?" She asked. Maria shook her head, and Cotte continued. "Well, take thegreasiest, toughest taver steak you can think of. A cheap tavern. The cheapest you can think of. Then add the smell of musk and the taste of orc and snake, and you have cooked warg."

Maria looked a little green. She shuddered and stepped away from the corpse, looking absolutely disgusted. Cotte giggled a little at her expression. "Don't worry, we'll clean the hidethoureghly." Cotte assured her. Her eyes roamed thetrees nearby, already searching for branches strong enough to haul the corpse back to camp. A moment later, Maria joined her. Both of them, Cotte noticed, still had their sworss belted at their waists. Well, that could be good thing for fighters like them less chance of being caught off guard.

As they began the filthy work of loading the carcass, Cotte briefly thought about the first teat of the young guardian beside her. It had proven most instructive, for both of them.