Rander pulled a second arrow from his quiver and fired again
at the fleeing game. The arrow struck a
deer in the hind leg and knocked it to the ground. Bleeding badly, the animal tried to get to
its feet and resume running.
Not wanting to lose the precious meat, Rander dropped his
bow, drew a knife and slid down the tree to finish his task. As he neared the fallen game, he noticed that
it was not looking at him as it tried to escape. It was looking back at the woods it had just
left.
Rander stopped next to the deer and turned curiously to look
at the woods as well. All he saw was a
charcoal-colored blur as he was knocked to the ground. An immense pain came from his leg moments
later. He looked down to see his entire
calf lodged in a Trogo’s mouth. It shook
its head back and forth so hard that the motion lifted Rander off the
ground. With one last swing of the head,
it threw Rander several paces in the air before he landed and rolled to a stop.
The wounded elf was in shock and looked about for the
beast. To his horror, more creatures
than he could count had entered the clearing and were surrounding him. They growled and snarled as they moved
closer. Time seemed to creep as Rander
awaited the attack. He screamed for
help, but his voice was overcome by the sounds of the Trogos. Having sized up
their prey, the one with Rander’s blood in his mouth attacked first.
Having lost his knife during the attack, there was little
Rander could do except put his arm in front of his face and close his eyes. The
sound of the barking suddenly stopped as a low-pitched whine came and went in
an instant. Immediately following it was
a loud yelp from the Trogo near him.
Uncovering his eyes, Rander saw the Trogo spinning in a
circle, trying to remove an arrow from its side. It had hit near the ribs, but did not dig
deeply into his thick hide. Another
Trogo came close and snapped the arrow’s shaft.
It was about that time that another arrow struck the same
wolf. It struck in the hindquarter, but
again, did little damage. A third arrow
totally missed the target and lodged in the ground.
The pack spread out and did not take long to locate Bander
in his tree. They left Rander and the
deer behind as they surrounded the tree and began barking at its host. The beasts demonstrated remarkable agility as
they leapt nearly to the branch where he stood.
As the terrified elf drew back his bow, one of the trogos
caught hold of his boot at the apex of its jump and tore it from his foot as it
fell. The incident knocked Bander on his
belly. He struck his head on the wide
branch but had the sense to hold on to it.
In order to grab the branch, however, he was forced to let go of his
bow. It fell to the ground, where it
instantly became a chew-toy for the trogos.
Realizing he was within reach of his adversary, Bander tried
to return to his feet. The action was
too late however, as a wolf jumped for his dangling arm. Bander could see the jaws coming near as if
it was happening slowly.
Just as the teeth were about to strike, a high-pitched whine
preceded an arrow slicing through the great animal’s neck. The arrowhead stopped only after exiting the
far side of the skin. With a horrible
yelp, the beast fell to the ground and moved no more.
The other members of the pack and Bander looked down the
clearing. Linvin stood in front of
Rander, panting, as he fired another arrow.
It struck a Trogo in the chest and embedded itself deep into the innards
of the wolf.
With a great howl, the one who had bitten Rander led the
others on a charge. They spread into a
bird-like formation with two wolves to each of the leader’s sides. Linvin gazed upon the wall of teeth bearing
down on him and stood his ground. With
lightning speed he fired shaft after shaft at the attackers. Two struck the leader. One wedged in his shoulder while the other
hit dead center in his left eye. Its
head immediately hit the ground while its body catapulted over the head before
landing lifeless. With their leader dead
and two others wounded or dying, the remaining Trogos decided to save
themselves and scattered to the nearest thicket of trees.
Linvin stood ready to fire even after the wolves were
gone. As the howls grew fainter, he
could finally turn his attention to his cousins.
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