They all turned alert, those two that sit rose to their feet and the one-eye elf narrowed his only eye and sheltered it from the sun looking in the direction that seemed to have caught Ruthion’s attention.For a while there was nothing, then a very faint cracking of a branch, a vague, very very vague sound of someone falling on the ground, none they would not have noticed unless searching for any such sound among those of the wind, the birds and the nearby water. Someone was running on the other side of the hill. Most likely more than just one pair of feet, yet the steps were light, like those of an elf, or like those of wargs and spiders, and that covered half the usual inhabitants of the moors.
Atop the hill edge a silhouette appeared, against the ever stronger light of the ascending sun, rushing in their direction, stumbling and rising, maybe limping.
“Oh! But that's her!”
Ruthion turned to the rest of the group to rush them: “ Let’s go!”
The unexpected luck puzzling or not, reaction time was not an issue for the long-tested warriors. Whatever circumstances brought the huntress they considered lost in their way it was obvious enough that she was in a bad condition and that she needed help. Saving one of their own took priority over any cleaning a random forward outpost. They rushed up the hill just as she stumbled and rolled down the slope a couple of times until she hit a horizontal portion of it.
They were getting closer when atop the hill showed up the silhouettes of two massive wargs, one dark fur and one-eyed and one of a strange reddish-golden color. The archers aimed for them with good speed but the sun hurt their eyes enough to miss, or the wargs were just fast enough to evade the rushed arrows but in any case both of them jumped at once down the hill. They attacked with confidence and rage the elves outnumbering them, first the apricot colored one, the other one after a hint of hesitation.
