The Lord of the Forest: Observations of Farothir



 

Well… he didn’t like that brute.
He still couldn’t believe it: master had given him the task to help out in the coming hunt.
The hunt itself wasn’t the point, but Farothir had a good intuition.
And his intuition told him that things were just going to get worse.


The brute obviously didn’t care about anything else but getting the job done.
After he was done talking to master – or rather angrily debating with master – he kneeled, staring into Farothir’s eyes. Even calling it a glare would have been wrong, it was rather a digging business. These grey-golden eyes seemed to pierce his mind like a pair of swords, and he didn’t like it.
But master didn’t tolerate his protest. He told him to follow the brute, and Farothir followed – at least, the digging business was over.


Then, the brute turned around and told him to hurry.
Farothir stopped.
The brute got angry, and repeated his command.
Both arriving at the gate later, Farothir had decided that he despised his companion.
The constant shouting, glaring and threatening, paired with a complete lack of knowledge and empathy quite soon transformed the brute into a walking nightmare.
But the worst thing was the smell.
Clearly, the brute’s hands solely consisted of limestone, with a hint of marble, feldspar and gravel. At least, that's what they smelled like.
Farothir hated limestone.
But that wasn’t all: the hauberk of the brute had the smell of orkish guts torn apart, and his cloak bore the scent of rotten wood.
The golden warriors who returned from the east normally changed their outfit, but the brute didn’t seem to like the golden warriors at all, and thus didn’t behave like one either.
This combination of things wasn’t acceptable at all.

Additionally, considering the brute’s unwillingness to grant him even the smallest of favours, Farothir decided to counter his harsh commands and his periodically reoccurring outbursts of rage with obvious and cold disobedience.

After they had passed the gate, they met a group of people with horses.
Farothir greeted them, and after he had unlocked the complex bundle of smells, he understood.
The hunting company was assembled.
The rider in the front – his boots bore the scent of fresh undergrowth and polished leather – began to get ready for departure. He knew what to do and when to do it, and Farothir considered following him. But then: master had given him a task. Farothir snorted. He was condemned to follow the brute. But for the sake of master he yielded to this difficult mission.
Another rider, armed with a long spear wore heavy, dark boots that had the scent of oil, coal and iron on them.
But there was one rider that immediately caught Farothir’s attention.
Her long cloak had a whole mixture of scents: Mallorn, smoke and ebony and other, rather weird scents that he didn’t know. They obviously were remnants, a mesh of memories and deeds of times long passed.
Her scabbard bore the scent of fire, smoke and steel, as well as old leather.
Her eyes were captivating: friendly and curious, and yet they betrayed a proud, dangerous spirit.


But then, the rider in the front gave a signal, and the company set out.
For a while, they followed the main road. The City of Trees slowly disappeared in distance.
Sadly, the company seemed to tolerate the presence of the brute.

Then, the rider in the front called out:
“Ya, ya!”
And swift like the wind, the company left the road, rushing through green and golden forest glades, passing under towering Mellyrn, leaving a trail of flying leaves behind them.
And with them was Farothir, and he barked and enjoyed the journey under the golden trees, for the brute was busy shouting and riding, and Farothir was happy.

Following the company, bathing in a thousand exciting smells, signals and traces, he finally began to enjoy the journey.

 

 

 

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Starring:

Turumor as the rider in the front

Annunghil as the rider with the long spear

Makanare as the Elleth with the long, mysterious cloak

Raolor as the brute

 

(This text was written in the point of view of Farothir, a hound living in Lothlórien. That's why the descriptions of various characters are the result of observations through scents, and behaviours rather than looks)