Grey Bits, and Brown Bits, and...

[Ollie(#15066)] A weird noise permeates the trees - a sort of buzzsaw rumble... if there were buzzsaws in Middle Earth. And it is punctuated by a deep booming and rhythmic thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Ah... it\'s just Oliver, humming to himself. Among the many things festooned about his person, there are two nicely bulgy bags. One has a limp furry ear poking out the opening the other, what seems to be a foot.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

And that protruding foot twitches slightly, and unlike the ear, it does not appear to belong in the rabbit category... The sack in question gives a moan, and it starts hopping about in place where it dangles tied to the large troll. Whatever is inside, it clearly does not wish to stay there for much longer.

[Ollie(#15066)] The humming breaks off. \"Hey,\" Oliver says, aggrieved. \"Yer stops.\" He looks down at the dancing bag, and whacks it with his palm. He hasn\'t stopped walking though, and now, he comes out into a clearing. There is no moonlight, but stars shine down brilliant and cold.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

There is another angry sound from within the bag, but it is too muffled to discern that, and the whack from the hand seems to successfully cause the bouncing motions to come to a halt. Inside, the captive uruk-hai pulls her arm downward to fiddle for a weapon but there is not enough room in the sack to draw it, and Narshaak stops, surprisingly staying still for now.

[Ollie(#15066)] Busily, Oliver goes about the business of readying supper. He kicks at a few rocks, looking rather grumpy, then spills the rabbits out of their sack. After contemplating them for a few minutes, he pulls Narshaak\'s sack off and holds it up and shouts at it. \"Yer makes fires!\" By way of making sure the orc knows he is talking to her, he gives the bag a good shake.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

Alas, for the grabbing, yelling, and shaking makes the bag wriggle again. And the orc yells back in order to be heard through the material. \"Can\'t make fire if I\'m in here! Let me out and I\'ll make it!\" Unseen from outside the sack, the Isengarder grins to herself, perhaps thinking she will make a run for it once Ollie has pulled her out.

[Ollie(#15066)] The troll thinks about this, heavily, slowly - a great craggy crease working its way across his forehead. \"Yers will run off,\" he decides finally, and sits down with an earth-shaking thud. He picks up one rabbit, sniffs it experimentally, opens his mouth... then puts it down again and starts feeling about through his various and sundry possessions - all of which seem to be lashed to his body somewhere.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

Well, that didn\'t work. And it seems the troll hasn\'t put her down either. But while the broadsword Narshaak possesses cannot be used in the cramped quarters -- not to mention with Oliver\'s grip pressing it down -- the she-hai still has one thing: teeth and claws. A particular section of the sack becomes rather damp as she sets about to try and chew her way to escape.

[Ollie(#15066)] Ahhh, there it is. Triumphantly, Oliver pulls out a handful of ... something. With his fist closed about this whatever-it-is, he fumbles at the opening to the bag the orc is in with his other hand. Once it is open, he drops a handful of some sort of pungent-smelling dust inside, then hurriedly closes it up again. Keeping one hand tightly about the neck of the sack, he starts in eating dinner.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

The gnawing stops abruptly as the bag is momentarily opened, and Narshaak looks up -- only to receive a prompt dusting of...something. Whatever it is, the awful odor makes the orc snarl, and she clamps a hand over her nose with a grimace. The sack squirms again, and now another protest: \"Out, out!\" But the struggling has irritated the injury to her back, and the she-hai stops again. \"My rabbits!\" Clearly, though, Narshaak has not forgotten about her stolen dinner.

[Ollie(#15066)] Perhaps some of the powder has sifted down to that injury - though surely Oliver didn\'t intend it to. He is swaying back and forth now, chanting a half-song in between crunches. \"Brown bits for rabbits an\' grey bits for elfses. Brown bits for ponies an\' grey bits for orcses. Grey bits an\' brown bits an\' saahl for them alllll....\" He whacks the sack again. \"Yers shuddups!\"

[Narshaak(#16331)]

The bag emits yet another muffled growl of pain and annoyance at the whack. \"What about Mens?\" asks the she-hai, deciding to ignore the fact that she has been put under the \'grey-bits\' label of the trollish song. Of course, Narshaak\'s voice comes out rather funny since she is still holding her nose with a claw. \"Salt,\" she says suddenly, remembering after hearing the word. \"I\'ll get salt if you let me out!\" Not waiting for an answer, the orc removes her hand from blocking the smell of the dust, and resumes her biting at the sack.

[Ollie(#15066)] \"Eh?\" Oliver cranes his neck looking down over rabbit ears. \"Oh. Mens.. brown bits,\" he says, authoritatively. Meditatively, he chews on another rabbit, crunching the bones. Salt. For a moment, he is tempted, then he shakes his head, even though the orc can\'t see it. \"Yers not comes back. Fools Ollie.\"

[Narshaak(#16331)]

\"No, you can\'t have them!\" The Isengarder growls at the tormenting sound of someone /else/ eating the lovely rabbits she herself caught. \"They\'re mine, I said!\" Then there is a pause. \"Salt and more rabbits I\'ll bring back if you let me out. If you don\'t believe me...\" but Narshaak cannot think of anything for reassurance, and she quiets again. She fights to stiffle a noise of excitement as she looks over her efforts: a small hole has sprouted, the material around it wet from her mouth.

[Ollie(#15066)] \"Grey bits for rabbits,\" Oliver starts to sing again, unmindful of the change in his recipe. \"An\' brown bits for elfses... grey bits for ponies an\' brown bits for ...\" Abruptly, the sound cuts off, and there is the noise of patting and hunting again. Once more the top of the bag is opened, quickly, and another handful of powder - this one a bit browner tint - comes sifting down. And just as quickly, Oliver claps his hand shut, shutting off Narshaak\'s escape. He doesn\'t notice the small hole she has made.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

And that seems to do it more unidentifiable ingredients rain down, and the she-orc now busies herself with using her hands to rip the hole open further. She hisses still however, for the spices have indeed drifted into the uruk-hai\'s wound. But escaping is more important, and she pays no attention to the burning sensation.

With the gap in the sack now fairly large, Narshaak risks a peer at the outside world, ere she wriggles to pull herself from the troll\'s grasp and out through the hole she has created.

[Ollie(#15066)] There are still a couple of rabbits left, and Oliver swallows noisily, and picks up another. The bag wriggles in his hand, and he mumbles something around the mouthful, picking the bag up and thumping it against the ground instead of letting go to hit it, this time. He doesn\'t notice until the sack has gone limp and flat under his hand that Narshaak has gone, and when he does, he stares at the sack for a couple of minutes in confusion, shaking it gently. How....?

[Narshaak(#16331)]

How indeed, and the hole tells all, though perhaps not to a troll\'s logic. The orc is now on the ground, gloved claws messing with the hilt of her weapon as she eyes Oliver\'s confused form with a wary crimson gaze. Yet Narshaak does not make any move to attack, for surely that nasty stony hide would notch her blade. Instead, the she-hai creeps carefully away from the sack-shaking hand her path aims to sneak around Oliver from behind, where he would not be able to spot her. The last of the rabbits are given a longing look, and the orc pauses for a moment, debating whether or not to dare a snatch at one. She hasn\'t eaten yet, afterall.

[Ollie(#15066)] The troll lifts the bag and peers at it, then shakes it again. Nothing happens. He opens the top and stares inside. Nothing except a small pile of dust. Then he looks down at the ground where the bag had sat, and then he (finally) starts to search. Turning around, sniffing at the air for her scent, pulling up branches and shrubs to see if she is underneath them.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

The orcish escapee makes a sharp hissing sound as Ollie turns around, and she swiftly abandons any attempt at rabbit-snatching. Cursing lowly through gritted teeth as the dust-irritated back wound causes her to stumble slightly, Narshaak manages to take a dive toward the nearest shelter -- a scraggly bush. Hopefully before the troll spies her.

[Ollie(#15066)] Ollie turns in several circles, but to no avail. He can smell the lingering odor of the orc, but it is in the bag and on the ground and he can\'t track it. Finally, after tearing up a good bit of the clearing, and getting more and more exasperated, he sits back down in a huff and eats the last of his rabbits morosely.

[Narshaak(#16331)]

The odor may linger, but the orc does not she is gone into the forest, only offering a grimace of disappointment at the munching noises of the rabbits. A lost meal is such a pity.