You don't need to hide, my friend.

Frodo Silvertongue · 12-17-2011, 08:19 PM

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> Big Grin

He was beyond amused when she called him by sir before trotting off. He was anxious though, watching her form leave into the darkness set a slight chill up his spine. Perhaps it was to be expected given the darkness and stillness of the hour, but still, something didn’t seem right. Either way he sat down, kindling the fire with the blanket on his lap, intense eyes pools of green melancholy as he worked at the flames, attempting to keep them going despite the harsh wind that seemed to constantly blow at the fire. The man scowled and was just thinking that Naniko should probably be there by now, when he heard a shout from the undergrowth. At once, in a sudden movement his body had snapped, jerked upwards from it's sitting position, ears pricked up, nose inhaling. His face went straight towards the sounds of Naniko’s voice and he growled deep in his throat, hearing his name and then commandments being thrown into the air. With all speed he had pulled both blanket and pillow up from the floor and had rushed to Strider, un-tethering the distraught beast at once.

In a few moments all equipment was back in the saddle bags, except for his bow and quiver which he drew out swiftly with a low growl. The atmosphere of their meeting had quickly turned from light and happy to tense and dangerous. Feeling moody, Frodo walked straight back up to the clearing, seeing Naniko rush straight towards him. He let out a feral snarl to see two figures in the distance, and then turned his intense eyes back to the lady. Go. I’ll be followin’ easy enough. his eyes were boiling and stubborn, it was very clear indeed there was nothing to alter his decision. With as much confidence as the lad could muster, he had stepped in front of the capable lady, his back to her as he shouldered his quiver, drawing an arrow out and knocking it in place. His stance was wide and somehow he managed to roughly block his horse and Naniko from the two beasts that approached now. Frodo was no fool; arrows were no use against the muscle and fat of bears, he knew this but their sharp edges would at least serve as a distraction. And permanent diability, he hoped too. They had all too quickly got on the wrong side of him; by threatening the woman who he thought now to be innocent they were threatening his honour.

Pity was something he thought not of now. The guilt would come later for causing pain and havoc among the deadly creatures, that were so despicable, yet majestic and to be respected. The bow was aimed and released. His aim was accurate and presice yet the beasts kept on coming. He knocked another peacock-feathered arrow in place, released, did the same. He repeated the arrows in quick succession until only four remained. Each time the drawing of the weapons had been fluent and quick, straight to the point. They rampaged further as he loosened the arrows but he knew he had hindered them. Two arrows stuck out of the larger bear’s eyes; one in each glassy, empy orb. Three were embedded in the younger one’s neck and the final arrow piercing through it’s ear. Frodo had tried to keep calm but his aim had shook slightly when attacking the younger one; it seemed it was just following the bigger of the beasts and perhaps it didn’t know what it was doing. So his arrows had not fully hit their mark. But the bears had been distracted enough, at least. There was no time to think now. They were upon him.

He leapt backwards as the strike of one heavy, heavy paw came. He left the meat discarded on the ground, the fire he put out with a stamp of his foot. And then he’d turned, and ran straight to his horse. His horse he thought of now. The man slapped Strider on his great flank and the beast was off at a gallop, snorting as he ran. Wherever the horse ran too, he would be found later. Frodo trusted Strider to look after himself; he was a horse of intelligence, and was well aware that horses could outrun a bear. So could a wolf. Desperately Frodo turned his head this way and that, sniffing the air. He’d find out if Naniko had stayed or ran when he’d told her too. If she’d stayed he would run with her to the caves. If he found out she’d already left he would be chasing her scent. Trouble was, it was hard for one to track when you were on edge and petrified, whatever display of bravery you’d just shown.

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