orcs

_{[This story is connected to http://laurelinarchives.org/node/40736.]}

Tired from riding all the night and day long, the travellers decided to have a rest. "Let us get a rest. I'll take the watch." - Katrandil said towards them, being tired as well but the two (in her opinion) deserved to rest more than she did. They looked at her, speaking almost at the same moment. "Don't mind if we do, no maam" - The hobbit started. Katrandil sat down on the log by the fire, watching her surroundings.

With a curved bow in his hand, he marched through the barren wasteland underneath the mask of darkness the land has given him. Soon, he shifted from being out in the open towards the cover of trees and rocks to hide him from sight. He waited, and his instincts were correct for soon, he had heard voices. Voices he recognized – one was croaky and crisp with age and weariness, whilst the other was simply aggressive and showing strength through even his voice.

I fear I most likely made a poor impression on the Avari. The last week has been a bit trying on my patience. Being bed ridden by an over attentive healer has not done me well either. I fear I have taken it out on him. It is going to take a great deal of patience to fix any bond with this Avari. I do not know if this is possible. I do not blame him if he chooses to avoid me. Now that I have had time for my temper to cool, Ai! I have been horridly mean. Orc like in manner even. Tis not his fault he did not understand, yet I pelted the salve jar at him anyway.