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A hobbit story (storyweaver1357 and Greeneyed23)

S

storyweaver1357

Moon
Joined
Feb 11, 2015
This winter seemed colder then most that gripped the lands making the land colder and the wind nip a little harsher then before. Over the land a think blanket of white snow hung heavily leaving little in the way of vegetation. She had survived winters but nothing like what was laid out before her. Even deer that was normally could be found where scarce even now. Slowly she trudged her way through the thick snow that even for her was close to chest high in the wolf form that she preferred taking. In the known lands of middle earth she would be different from normal wolfs. Her white fur wouldn't stand out nor would the ice blue coloring of her eyes. It was her size that would set her aside. For the wolfs of the land she would be considered large. Coming to about the waist of a full grown man. Had it not been for the fact that she was out in the wilderness or the fact that she was injured from a run in with a couple goblins she would have moved more carefully. The wound on her hind quarter though was making moving carefully all but impossible. A few blotches of red would stain the snow from time to time when she moved wrong and opened the gash once more.

Her path wound through the barren forest to a small cave that she had used a few times before to ride out the storms. As hungry as she was and as much as her body hurt it would only be a short stay over. She couldn't stay more then a night or two. Her life had become one of constant moving and seeking out a new place to lay. Always staying clear of humans and their ways. The cave itself had a small entrance cut out in the almost sheer face of the a mountain face. There was a small tunnel the would be more then enough to make a grown man hunker down slightly to slip in. For her it would be a far more easy as it was close to the right height. It opened up into a larger caver that would hold close to ten men with ease. For this night and maybe the next this would be her shelter.

Her breathing came from her muzzle in heavy clouds visible in the cold air as she walked across the cavern to a darker part where she would be a little better hidden and could keep an eye on the entrance. Slowly she laid down feeling fatigue setting in as the wind whistled outside and the storm threatened to grow worse. Tired eyes slowly closed as she finally allowed her body to rest and try to recover as her mind lost some of the clarity it had about the world around her.
 
Ethilmor, brother of Arathorn, hated winter storms in the north. They were beautiful, helpful to the land, drove evil into either death or their lairs, but they struck with the suddenness and fury of a Dragon.

Ethil was not breathing at the moment. He had little time and this shot mattered more than most. He held. And held. Then the sound of a tree popping in the cold made the buck's head snap up and at the same moment Ethil let fly.

Thirty minutes later the storm had indeed arrived, though it had not yet begun to fall. Ethil dragged the deer carcass through the cramped entrance of the cave and sighed happily, seeing that he was just in time as the wind shifted and with the shift brought down a massive downpour of ice and snow. He examined the cave carefully and froze when he saw the white wolf. He groaned as he drew an arrow taking aim at her heart. He had not seen any sign. And never would. He had come in the wrong way and her blood had long since been licked up by some scavenger or another.

"Please Lady Wolf. I mean no harm. I will share my bounty with you if you let me share your cave." He had no clue if she understood but he had to try.
 
The first thing that had told her she was no longer alone was the smell of blood drifting on the cold winter wind. Her nose twitched ever so slightly smelling the scent of a buck and something else. Not human, nor elf, nor dwarf, nor any of the creatures that bowed their knee to the darkness but this scent was something new to her. Something different. Next would come the sound of something entering her hideout along with the dragging the buck. Her head rose sightly as her ice blue eyes focused on the intruder who seemed oblivious to her presence. The question of wither to attack or not still lay heavy in her mind. This man could just as easily be sent here to hunt her down as many had before. Her ear twitched hearing the massive downpour of ice and snow which more then likely would cover the entrance to the cave. If one did not know right where to look finding it when it was covered would be hard to say the least. When his eyes finally fell on her head would raise a little more her ears slowly moving back. She heard his groan near the same time as she saw him drawing his arrow. The small act of protection or aggression made a long deep growl vibrate up slowly.

Then came his words and her ears would perk up slightly as she continued looking at him. Ever since her wolf had come to her she never liked taking her human form. The wolf was stronger, wiser and had been the only reason the two of them had survived. Slowly she laid her head back down though her eyes would remain focused solely on him and what ever movements he would make. It wasn't the verbal response that her other form could give him but for the moment she wasn't ready to let that secret out. Better he think her simply an oddly large creature then to know the truth of the matter. She remained still as she watched him her mind mulling over the question on if she should partly trust him or not. It had been a great many years since she had actually talked to someone. Even longer since she traveled with someone.

It wasn't until a fire had been built and warmth started flooding the area that she would move again slowly raising as she carefully walked closer to the fire favoring the injured leg as she soaked in the warmth. All the while those ice cold eyes watched him. Analyzing him. Judging him. Seeking any sign of darkness or alternate motive for being here other then seeking shelter from the storm that still raged outside.
 
His own dark blue eyes never left her form. Even when he set aside the bow and set to making the fire he watched her.

He didn't known if she knew this but a true wolf would not watch him so intently nor give him her head so quickly. She had to be something other. She smelled wrong too. Far too old to be both so large and in such good shape. He set to carved up the deer, laying the pieces as he needed to. He put the shoulders on spikes over the fire, then set to work using the innards themselves to clean then tan the hide, which he stretched between two boulders near the fire.

When he had finished with this he tossed the ruined bits away then lay the other on a flat stone alogn with several choice cuts, then slid it toward her, not invading her space. "I could cook them for you if you wish."
 
Her ice blue eyes met his dark blue ones as the moments past and she decided that she would trust him. Even if the trust was a fragile one. Even as he watched her she would watch him always being aware as she could of his movements. Trust with others was something hard won with her. The smell of the deer would cause her stomach to growl having not eaten in a few days. At this point she was willing to eat it raw even if that wasn't her favorite choice. As he slid several choice cuts towards her eyes looked over them. She was hungry it was that hunger the fueled her next choice. Her body slowly started changing to that of a young woman having seen maybe no more then twenty four winters. Her pale skin was slightly dirty and her long red hair was tied back in a tight braid. Her clothes where torn and warn through in places showing that they where due for a cleaning. The leather boots she wore where scuffed and worn in a few places. The only thing that seemed in good shape was the white pelt that lay over her small shoulders.

Reaching out she slowly drug the meat closer to her all the while those same ice blue eyes remained on him. “No offense I cook my own food,” she spoke her words slightly broken from simple lack of not talking to people. She carefully laid several of the pieces out on the stone before moving it closer to the fire tell the stone would start to heat and the meat would start to cook. “Only Rangers or wicked men are out in these place at these times. Which would you be stranger?” she asked her eyes still looking at him with suspicion. Still there was some civil behavior in her as she started smelling the meat cooking knowing she would eat tonight. “Thank you for the meat,” she finally said as she pulled the pelt a little tighter around her.
 
"I am Dunedain. And who are you lady?"

He had taken her transformation in his stride. He had seen much stranger in his time in this land. While he waited for her answer her set his own meal, slicing cooked strips off then putting the meat back, letting the other cook fully through. he might be as hungry as she but it had been more than two days since he had eaten last due to the storm. He sipped from his water pouch, his dagger dancing along his other hand rapidly.

Trust came much harder for him and he made sure to always have a weapon in his hand or near it no matter what he was doing anytime he was not at home. Something he had not seen in some time. His brother had not yet married when he had left on this mission. Now Arathorn was betrothed to wed. Ethilmor had a duty to return. And he would be glad to see his brother. Though Ethilmor was a year older he had refused the leadership of the Dunedain. he was capable but he had known he was simply too wild and solitary to command his family. Arathorn was far more suited to such matters.

He shook himself watching the wolfwoman. Even while reminiscing his eyes had watched her carefully and the dagger continued to dance along his fingers.
 
“I am a skin walker but I am no lady and have not been for a very long time,” she spoke as she breathed in the scent of the cooking meat that tickled her stomach. It would be to eat again even if it would mean sharing her hide out for the night. The fact that he had taken her change in stride spoke to how resilient the Dunedain where. It also explained his scent and why she hadn't smelled it before. He was truly the first of his kind that she had come across. Her cold blue eyes continued watching him as he set about making his own meal like the silence. She couldn't help but notice he always had his weapon at the ready which for her would mean he trusted as little as she.

Slowly her hands moved out hovering a little above the cooking meat to help warm her body. Her kin where made for cold weather but it still didn't mean that they didn't feel it. “Then if you are of that old blood line what brings you out to these parts? Ranging?” she asked as she looked up at him knowing it need be, even injured, her wolf body would be able to put up a fight.

“I do have one thing I would like to pull from your mind. It isn't anything that would distress you in parting with it. Or would put any at risk,” she said as she rubbed her hands together feeling warmth starting to return to her body. “I know you kind and kin are aware of the world around you. I was wondering when you where traveling this way if you saw a another like me? He would have been older and tawny-brown in color,” she whispered as she continued watching him.
 
He shook his head. "You are the first skin-walker, living or dead I have seen north of Mordor. As to why I am out here I serve as scout and mapper for my kin. I have been to the coasts of this land in every direction and I have seen much. I am on my way to my brethren to report what I have seen." He could share this as it was no secret and the information could neither help nor harm anyone.

"I have seen others like you, and werewolves, and other creatures even more magical. I've fought them and killed them. A skinwalker is at least in control so I bid you welcome. Now who is this man/wolf you have lost? Is he friend? Lover? Kin? I would help you find him if he has suffered hurts as you have."

His eyes were empty of emotion and his face was enveloped both in the cave shadow and the fire light, making it hard to read with the contrasting effects. "And as to your wound will it heal? Or would you like it tended to?"
 
Her eyes remained on him as he spoke of her being the first skin walker, living or dead being north of Mordor as her shoulders slumped slightly knowing her prey was still out of reach. His reason for being out here though was one she could see since a detailed map would serve his kind well. There was a very small hint of trust since he had not choice to hide his reasons even if they where mundane. Even though the words would not leave her mouth the way her eyes narrowed spoke that their relationship was far from a loving one. Her eyes remained looking up into his before she reached down carefully turning the meat over letting it cook on the other side. “No such affiliation,” she said as her eyes slowly moved to the wound before looking back to him. “It will heal. I will tend to it after I eat but I do appreciate the offer,” she said as a small smile spread on her lips. “I just tend to mend myself,” she said softly.

He had offered the reason as to why he was here and some part of her felt that it would be right in doing the same even if he wouldn't agree with it. “The other skin-walker I asked you about. We are bound one to another. He hunts me and I hunt him until breath leaves one of us. The injury I suffered was from his troops” she said not looking for sympathy or understanding but rather simply telling him how it was. “I asked you if you had seen him so I could see if he had followed my scent but it seems he is recovering from our last meeting as well. Which sits well with me,”
 
He nodded watching her, his own lips and teeth busy chewing his meal quietly and neatly. He waited until she fell silent until he spoke again.

"Would you be willing to part with the name of this person?"

He twirled his blade then sliced off another strip. "And what is this army he has? i've seen nothing of the kind...but I have been gone from the north for sometime."
 
As she continued eating she continued watching the one that she was sharing the cave with. To her there would be no harm in parting with a name. After all it wasn't her name but rather the name of someone who she would see dead even if it would mean that she would not see another sunrise. “His name is Fallen and should you ever come across him ranger mark my words he is not one to be trusted,” she said not sure if he would heed her warning or not. “I don't know the full strength of his army but I do know he had something or someone supporting him. For what reason I do not know. All I do know is when we fight he has a few fowl creatures at his side and that I have lost his scent and seemingly he has lost mine,” she spoke biting off another large chunk. “Eventually when his wounds have healed he will show himself again,” she said as she looked up at him seeing the darkness did little to make his features readable. “I do thank you for the food Ranger. It has been a couple days since I could last get something to eat,”
 
He nodded. "I assume when you say assistance you mean either the Dark Lord or his favorite pet the Witch King? And be careful with names. They have power."

He smiled at her gratitude. "It has been my pleasure to share. That is the joy of cooking. Now might ask for another name? Yours?"

He continued to dance his dagger along his fingers his eyes studying her thoughtfully.
 
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