Bor\'s Folly: Teeth in the Night

The clouds are heavy and forbidding. Through their thickness only the briefest shafts of pale moonlight descend, falling upon unpredictable stretches of the road to the West. One such lights a lone figure outside a traveler\'s camp, with a torch in his hand and a glittering sword upon hip.

This man, erudite and unwavering he stands a guardian totem before the tents of Gondor. A hound rests near his boots, its frame stretched out upon the ground but its eyes, like his own, are vigilant upon the murky horizons.

\"Huan,\" says this man to his hound, whose ears perk immediately. \"Huan,\" he repeats. The hound\'s head twists to look at him, but the man is now silent.

The hound lowers its head back to the earth. It is but a moment there for the hound\'s nose twitches slightly afterwards, and then the whole of its body lurches upwards. It steps outwards a few paces from its master.

The man says to the hound, \"Yes, Huan. You smell then now, do you not?\"

And there, down the road aways, the flashing of pairs of teeth.

\"Wolves,\" says the man. The hound growls.

It is in the way the wolves patrol the perimeter, flashing their teeth yet unwilling to encroach further to where they may strike. The man names it, saying, \"They are yet fearful of their chances to waylay our company.\"

\"Come, Huan,\" he says to the hound, \"Do not enflame their hearts so.\"

The hound takes one last look outwards at the wolves, baring his own teeth, before he trots back aside his master. He does not rest now.

Cwen has kept an eye to the outside of the camp - where the Lord Bragollach stands with a torch. She is by the fire, warming some mead and adding spices and raisins to it. As she does this, the Lady hums a tune.

The flap of the tent nearest Cwen rustles as a tie is undone from within. Shortly a tall, pale-skinned woman wearing a cloak trimmed in fur slips out into the cold, a small grimace on her lips.

\"Cousin,\" she begins softly the words catch in her throat, however, and a series of wracking coughs burst from her chest. The woman is Arawyn, and she has been little seen outside the womens\' tent these past weeks.

The man with the torch and the hound look back to the camp, both pairs of eyes settling upon Arawyn after she coughs. But they are not long there, and disappear back out into the darkened folds of the evening watch soon after.

Cwen turns her head eyes falling onto her cousin. A frown, and she says to her:

\"Do you need anything? I can make you more tea if you would like.\" she offers with a faint smile.

Arawyn lowers the hand she had raised to her chest during the coughing fit and leans her head back against the side of the tent, the lids of her eyes drooping briefly. \"Tea would be wonderful, cousin,\" she murmurs, then adds, \"and honey if any remains.\"

Her cough subsided, Arawyn steps further into the cold and nears the fire while shifting her cloak about her shoulders to better guard against the bitter chill.

An ethereal howl cuts through the utter silence of the night!

Lominzil stumbles out of the Squires\' tent, in full armor yet half-awake, eyes unseeing.

Cwen frowns more. \"Cousin, please, sit by the fire. I will get you some tea with honey. Stay warm.\" There is concern in her tone.

A pot is put over the flames, and water fills it to make tea. The howl catches her attention then as it cuts through the air. She stands straight, feeling a chill down her spine. Seeing Lominzil come out of his tent a moment she only offers him a brief glance before turning to the direction of the Knight, who stands at the outside of their camp. \"Wait here, Arawyn.\" says the Lady to her cousin as she turns to take cautious steps in the Knights directions.

Nodding slightly to her cousin, Arawyn moves to sit by the fire. With a start, however, Arawyn looks in the direction of the wolf\'s cry, her breath catching in her throat. A look of concern appears in her grey-blue eyes. \"Be careful, Cwen,\" she urges. \"I like not the sounds in the night.\"

The cold ground, seeping snow melting on the Squire\'s bare feet, wakes him. He shudders, then turns to the fire. \"Who is there?\" he asks quietly. \"Do not move from the fire.\"

Throughout it all, the man stands deathly still and his eyes peer out into the night. The torch in his hand does not shake, but he hears the steps of Cwen.

\"It is only wolves. Be not afraid,\" he says as the Lady nears.

Cwen has made her way nearer to the Knight. Lominzil’s words are faded in the background. The woman stops just close enough to the edge of the camp that she is still in it, yet close enough to the Lord Bragollach that she can hear him clearly. Still, the talk of the wolves makes her shudder.

\"A wolf is better than other foul creatures that could be hiding in the dark.\" she replies to the Lord, her own blue eyes watching the dark carefully. \"Do you know how many wolves are out there?\"

Arawyn raises a hand to Lominzil in greeting and speaks with a voice hoarse with sickness and apprehension, \"It is simply I, Arawyn it seems I have chosen a poor evening to present myself, however. Bitter cold, my breath frozen almost before it leaves my lips, and now wolves without.\"

Lominzil stoops to gather sword, belt, and knife: a hand reaches to his neck, pulling his embroidered cloak loose.

\"I have only this, but it is more than nothing,\" says the Squire, holding it out to the Lady. \"Please, put it on.\"

Then, nightmares still half-lit in his eyes, stalks toward the edge of camp.

\"Six I have seen since we left Edoras. They track our passage but do not strike,\" answers the torch-bearer. \"But I believe their strength has grown since I last counted. The howl is a warning, or perhaps a dare.\"

A hand moves to her head, Cwen recalls when she had been attacked by a wolf not all to long ago, and had recieved stitches for such an encounter. One she does not wish to repeat in the same way.

\"Six? Packs can grow large.\" her eyes move about the dark as if hoping to see the number of wolves out there. \"Shall we prepare for an attack?\" asks the Lady eyes moving to Imrakhor a moment then, curious. \"Just in case.\"

\"They will not strike tonight,\" says the torch-bearer. He looks down to the hound which stands thigh-high to his side. \"Huan has revealed himself.\"

Thin lips reddened by the chill turn upward at the corners as Arawyn reaches out to take hold of the Squire\'s cloak, though her brow draws together in a worried furrow. She slips his cloak about her shoulders and rests it atop her own woolen cloak, the fine, dark blue cloth striking against the grays and browns of rabbit fur.

\"Cousin,\" Arawyn calls toward Cwen, standing now and turning her back to the fire. \"Come away from there.\" There is concern in her voice, for she is familiar with the wounds once sustained by her fair-complected cousin.

Lominzil approaches the Knight and the Lady Cwen, hand to hilt. \"And what of tomorrow?\" he asks.

Looking to Huan, Cwen smiles a touch. \"A proud and strong animal you have. I feel the pain of missing my own hounds.\" That makes her frown a touch.

Hearing her cousin’s voice, blue eyes return to the fire and Arawyn. Chewing her lower lip a touch and sighing, realizing her cousin will not feel secure until the Lady has returned to the fire a few steps back are taken, a brief glance given to Lominzil as she does this.

\"If you are in need of help, if they attack please let me know. I have my bow in the tent. There are warm drinks by the fire waiting if you wish as well.\" her words are soft to the Knight and Squire before she turns to go back to the fire, giving her cousin a reassuring smile.

Arawyn crosses her arms and takes hold of the edges of both cloaks to draw them closer to her body. She shifts her feet from side to side, though whether to prevent the chill of the ground from creeping through her leather boots or out of a thinly veiled apprehension for the night\'s events, it is uncertain.

\"Thank you,\" she breathes as Cwen nears the fire once more. \"I would not have you hurt this eve I fear my hands are not yet steady enough to administer aid.\"

\"By tomorrow they shall have forgotten their fear of the Hounds of the West but by then, we will be prepared,\" says the hound\'s master.

As Cwen slips away, he adds, \"You may as well have your bow now, Lady.\"

Then the Dunadan\'s eyes fall to Lominzil where they linger.

Lominzil looks back to his Knight then, unable to hold the Dunadan\'s gaze, drops down to crouch shoulder-to-shoulder with Huan, and with him stares into the darkness. \"The watch will be changing soon, Imrakhor,\" he says, for want of anything to say.

Out of the shadows steps Menelglir, the knight fully armed. He strides across the camp to come to Lominzil and Imrakhor, holding his silence for the moment.

A comforting smile is given to her cousin and Cwen says to her:

\"Worry not. You need to heal yourself first.\"

The tea is now warm and a cup is poured - yet the Lords words have not fallen on deaf ears. She turns in head in the direction of the men and then looks back to Arawyn. \"I must get my bow, worry not cousin-mine, nothing bad will happen. Stay here, be safe.\" A hand is placed on the woman’s shoulder in comfort before the golden haired lady goes into her tent returning a moment later with her bow and quiver of arrows and she makes her way back towards the men.

\"I am grateful, cousin,\" Arawyn remarks with a dip of her head as she takes the cup of tea in one hand. Yet as if on cue, the younger cousin of Cwen begins to cough. Her other hand abandons the edges of the cloaks and rises once more, her long fingers pressing against her chest as though she could stifle the outburst with a touch.

\"Who is to replace me?\" asks the torch-bearing Dunadan of Lominzil.

\"The Knight Menelglir is here,\" answers Lominzil, glancing behind.

Cwen has stopped a few yards away from the men, she hears her cousin cough and turns. There is no pressing need of her at the moment it seems so the Lady turns to walk back to the fire. Saying to Arawyn:

\"Drink the tea, it will help.\" hands move to pull the cloaks tightly around her cousin. \"Are you hungry? There is some stew left over.\"

The Dunadan turns at those words, to look at Menelglir. There is more than a careless tilt to his eye more careful, precise, insightful evaluation. \"I suppose that is how it must be,\" says the man after a few moments.

Arawyn shudders as the last of the coughs burst into the cold night air, a falling cloud of frozen breath before her. \"The tea will be enough,\" she speaks after a time, her tone an attempt at being reassuring. \"I have slept much today and I believe I will sleep again shortly, for my sleep bears little rest in it. If the wolves persist in howling, though..\" she finishes with a sigh before raising the cup to her lips and drinking deeply of the familiar draught.

\"Lord?\" Menelglir says, his head tilted slightly to one side and his tone shaded with puzzlement over Imrakhor\'s words of him. \"Replace you on watch?\"

\"Squire,\" he nods, giving recognition to Lominzil.

A deep frown crosses Cwen’s face.

\"Some broth then. I am no healer but I can treat a cold, and I know you\'ve been sleeping but you need -something-.\" her tone has a bit more demand in it now. \"I will get you brother.\" and after one final tug on the cloaks that are around Arawyn to keep her warm. The lady turns to see what she can get together for warm broth.

\"Worry not of the wolves, the men will not let them into the camp. We are safe here.\"

Lominzil stands, and says nothing.

\"Peace, cousin,\" Arawyn pleads, \"I will eat in the morning.\" She twitches the cloaks\' placement on her shoulders with her free hand as she takes another swallow of the tea, then glances toward the tent.

\"Perhaps just a small cup of broth,\" she relents, \"but I will take it within. If you could return the squire\'s cloak for me I would be greatly appreciative.\" Arawyn says the last as she shrugs out of the dark blue cloak and settles it near the fire before returning to the tent and tying the tentflap loosely behind her.

”Greet the Knight, Lominzil,” says the Dunadan.

”He is a worthy replacement,” he adds, passing the torch to Menelglir.

\"I will bring it to you then, go rest.\" says Cwen to her cousin with worry in her eyes. And a nod is given. \"I will return it to him, sleep well cousin.\"

The Lady reaches over and grabs the cloak watching Arawyn return to the tent to get some rest. Still, she frowns. But on her heels she turns seeing the group of men there and feet begin to lead her in their direction, cloak in hand.

\"Sir,\" Lominzil says obediently, touching fist to chest.

\"I will take the other side of the camp.\"

\"Squire,\" Menelglir repeats, returning the salute ere he takes the torch. Still, he gives Imrakhor a searching look.

\"Aye,\" Menelglir replies to Lominzil, attention then immediately back to Imrakhor. \"Double the watches, I should think?\"

\"Yes. I fear their hunger will soon overcome their fear,\" says the Bragollach Knight to Menelglir. \"Huan is well-rested. I will send him off to accompany the Squire Lominzil to the East watch.\" The Knight looks to the hound and flicks his chin towards Lominzil. Huan comes aside the Squire.

As she nears the men, Cwen clears her throat to get their attention. Her eyes have moved to Lomzinil however, has she holds his cloak.

Lominzil nods, his eyes lingering a moment more on the Knights. He turns to Cwen, reaching absently down to pat Huan\'s head.

\"She went to sleep?\" the Squire asks of her. \"That is good -- so should you.\"

\"West I shall stand, then,\" Menelglir says, glancing from Imrakhor to the hound and then Lominzil.

\"Is that all, then, Sir Imrakhor? And yes, Lady, sleep now, while the opportunity presents itself.\"

\"Yes. That is all, Sir Menelglir,\" affirms the Lord Bragollach, continuing, \"A good night to you all. I will sleep a few hours now as well.\"

Nods around, and the Bragollach departs.

Cwen passes her gaze to Menelglir saying: \"I plan to find sleep soon myself.\"

A nod is given to the Lord Bragollach as he departs and she looks to Lominzil handing him his cloak back. \"Thank you,\" she says to him softly \"There is tea,\" this statement is to them both. \"By the fire and warm when you need it.\"

And with that the woman gives a nod to them goodnight as well before turning to head to her tent to find sleep too.

\"Let us go, sir Huan,\" Lominzil says quietly, settling the cloak over his shoulders and striding off between the tents.

Huan trots off at Lominzil\'s side.