The Hunt

[Vanargand]

Licking their chops, the beasts growled impatiently as they set out from the mountain, their hour had come. The moonlight cast a ghastly grimace upon their faces and highlighted their fangs, that yearned for fresh flesh and to feel the drain of a slowly beating heart. The pack treaded farther away from the mountain in order to set their paws into wilderness, their playground. From a distance one might have heard the howl of a wolf, that was accompanied by another and then yet another. Finally they were silenced by the mightiest howl of them all, that would have sent chills trough the spines of any mortal standing the midst of the beasts.

Towering over all others stood the pack leader, more than a mere wolf or warg, a being far more older than anyone might have guessed. One might have regarded it as little more than a beast, but one who might have known better would realized, that this `wolf` was no mere mortal beast. As Vanargand`s orange-gleaming eyes stared into the distance from the rocky slopes of the mountain, a scent was caught by his peculiarly strong sense of smell. This scent was not that of an orc, this was no filthy servant of his or any rulers across the misty mountains. The being was human, no, perhaps he had grown distant from his once foes and had not witnessed an elf in a while. No wonder, their dwindling numbers in Middle Earth had come as a disappointment, they were deadly and worthy foes yet then again brittle like any prey.

The scent made him immediately growl a command to the rest of the pack and they set out in the prowl once again, heading for the scent of the elf. The pack raced towards the prey with Vanargand in the lead. Excited, curious, amused and bloodthirsty, the Wolf-King of Gundabad revealed his carnivorous fangs into wide grin at the thought of elven flesh. The moments of travel flashed by quickly, driven by the hatred lying deep within his memories, Vanargand laid eyes of the `hapless` prey. Quietly the pack crouched in wait with fangs bared and once permitted they began to slowly sneak around the traveling elf.

The pack enclosed around the prey, whether moving or not, they made their intent clear of not letting the flesh escape their fangs. Slowly they appeared from the night, one by one, staring down their prey with savage hunter reflected from their eyes. Finally Vanargand emerged from his hiding place and took his place in the circle, baring his fangs and letting out a unmistakable chuckle between his teeth.

"Flesh of the first-borns always carried a certain scent attached to them, my senses might have grown dull during time of hiding, but I can still smell you and I can still cut you.... oh how curious little elfling for you to come across these land, into my domain..."

Vanargand mused out loud as he eyed the elf before him, but then again when he gazed closer, a growing doubt was cast on the fact whether she was merely an elf. During his, relatively brief, time in the service of Morgoth he had come to see various beings of power and beauty. No matter, the prey remained unprotected, surrounded and ready to be torn asunder it seemed.

[Kassandra]

*Kassandra had heard the distant howls but thought nothing of them until she heard their leader. She was curious but continued her walk. It was getting late, and she would need to make camp soon. There was a positive side to not having a home, and that was being able to stay wherever and whenever she wanted. She looked around and decided she would keep walking for a while, until she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. It seemed like a shadow, not really catching her attention until she heard the breath of someone else...or numerous people. She looked around and saw the terrible figures as they stepped closer, her eyes widening. How had she not sensed them? She had always been more than adequate at finding hidden enemies, but then she realized that her hunters were no humans. She stared into their deep orange eyes, becoming a bit enticed by them, and was reminded of her first encounter with a werewolf. She had met Carcharoth, a frightening and threatening figure, while she had accidentally intruded on his lands. Now the exact same thing was happening, but as the leader of this pack stepped out, she was not reminded of Carcharoth at all. Carcharoth had been a truly formidable opponent, but like all her other enemies, had fallen to her power. This one had grown far beyond Carcharoth's famed stature and she couldn't help but to shiver a bit as she looked at him. She heard him speak and replied without a quiver in her voice, though she knew she would have to endure a tough fight ahead. "My deepest apologies..." Her voice was loud and didn't tremble..she was good at acting strong if nothing else. "I have heard rumors that werewolves were inhabiting middle earth again, but I did not believe them..You are magnificent and terrible creatures in person. I met one long ago, in the first age. Did you know Draugluin?" She said trying to compliment them and distract them from what she knew they wanted as long as possible. She knew Draugluin was the first werewolf, and had hoped they might think she was a friend since she knew their original leader. She made sure to make eye contact, and she showed no fear.

[Vanargand]

A silence crept over the circle as Vanargand eyed the being before him, at his mercy, and was almost embarrassed to admit she would live for a bit longer. It was his curiosity, that held his fangs at bay from tearing open, that beautiful, brittle neck of hers and allowing the blood to gush out. The werewolf sneered and began to move, slowly he began to circle around Kassandra, measuring her with a cold judging look in his eyes.

She spoke of beings such as him with such ease, casually as, if they were almost not-frightening before her. Whether her apparent confidence spurred from idiocy or arrogance, Vanargand could not tell, which and allowed her to breathe longer than originally intended.

"No, I did not, he was defeated before my time. I was young during the war of wrath, but tell me, who are you to speak of my kind with such ease? As, if you knew them? Had they been your foes, no doubt you would not have lived to tell the tale, I hardly recall your kin within the service of my lord lest they were disfigured... unlike you, who retain your... brittle form.

Who are you elfling?"

He spoke and snarled with suspicion shining trough his words, the elf was a peculiarly interesting case thus far and might not be as she appear. However as such thoughts crossed his mind Vanargand felt the great urge to roar in anger and rush onwards to dissect the feeble being. He pushed aside the shameful fact, that he was fascinated by her apparent claims, with anger and the suspicions these claims brought with them.

[Kassandra]

*she smiled a bit inside. It seemed she had the power to delay even the gods themselves if she wanted. She was a formidable speaker, and great at lulling anyone into curiousity* "I knew them because they share one common trait with me.." *she said smiling a bit. She could tell the wolf knew she wasn't a normal elf, and he was definately right* "The wolves of the first age and I are both fallen Maiar." *she stood a bit taller now, but was nothing in comparison to the stature of the large werewolf in front of her. She could still see the bloodlust in his gleaming orange eyes, and knew she wasn't out of the worst yet. "We were not enemies, but not the greatest of allies either" *she spoke the truth. She wouldn't lie to him in fear he could sense it..smell it. She knew werewolves were a substantial threat to even her, and didn't want to taunt them, knowing their intentions were harsh*

[Vanargand]

Vanargand ceased his restless prowling around her, stopping behind her and breathing down her neck whilst measuring the truth of her words. The tale was quite fitting, he had seen trough the bare exterior enclosing her darker nature yet it had not been as simple as one might have thought. She was like a flower, a cruel one at that, with the power to cloak her true nature, that remained dark and apparently cunning, devouring all fools, who did not see the truth until it was too late.

Briefly he sniffed her scent again, the wolf did not forget nor forgive those, who had done him wrong and memories of the ages burned brightly within his mind every day. He recalled his `birth`, first taste of flesh, elven and human alike and he recalled the first horror he had felt at the hands of the host of Valinor. She however, he only briefly and hazily, recalled as a cunning being yet nothing more. They might have met or he might have met someone akin to her yet that hardly mattered anymore.

"You do well in realizing, that every breath you still take in this world is at my leisure. Yet due to your puzzling nature, you fail to give your name when I ask of it. You are a tricky being, one who dances trough this world and laughs at fools at her feet, no doubt. Normally I would have gutted you without giving a second thought to it, former ally or not.

Yet truth be told I`d find little pleasure in doing so now, not because of your nature, but the very fact that you seem more worth alive than dead. And sincerely..."

Vanargand said with an amused tone as he teasingly grabbed some of her dark hair onto one of his carnivore claws. Despite his cruel nature and insensible blood lust, the werewolf from time to time enjoyed playing mind games on his prey or servants. Instilling fear, discomfort within them and watching them squeal before him made an amusing display.

Yet he bored easily and the pack demanded for fresh quarry, one that was able to satisfy their hunger and offer them a worthy hunt.

"There`d be little flesh to feed off your bones, not to say you`d even amount to our scraps."

He stated the fact dryly as he pulled away his claw allowing her hair to fall back to it`s place, unharmed. The pack, and their leader, suddenly seemed uninterested of the being, that they had only moments ago threatened to tear into shreds. Maybe she might have been a worthy being to hunt across the woodlands yet the prize at the end of the hunt would have only fed one or two of them.

More would be required, preferably human adults, the taste of orcs was stale and dull. Their very nature made the packs stomachs churn in discomfort. Relaxed, Vanargand hulked past Kassandra as the rest of the pack seemed to be eager to depart. Yet as his back remained turned to her Vanargand considered the prospect of learning more about her. He suddenly growled a command to a nearby member of the pack, one somewhat more larger in comparison to others, and it moved without question, arriving near Kassandra.

"You amuse me enough to grant you the honor of joining us on our prowl elfling, I´d call you something more dignifying were you to share your name. He shall serve as your mount as I´d doubt you feet carry you fast enough for you to keep up with us."

He made the offer with a somewhat irritated voice yet his words contained a hint of respect as to the fact, that they had once been allies despite not having known one another before.

[Kassandra]

*She winced when he drew her back by her hair and clutched her fists ready to fight, but she knew if he had wanted to kill her it would've been too late. She bowed when he said she could join them and thanked him* "It gives me great honor to once again share an experience with you and your kin." *She hoped up on the werwolf, and it growled at her a bit. She couldn't help but treating it like her pet because she wasn't used to riding anything that could speak. She looked down at him and apologized but he didn't seem to care. She looked at Vanargand and gave a slight smile, trying to be friendly* "My name is Kassandra...you may call me Kassy" *she said surprised that he didn't turn their little acquaintance into a fight. She was glad though, and very relieved* Where are we heading?

[Vanargand]

"Humans grow bold these days and risk days of travel trough the mountains, they travel at day and camp at night, believing that their numbers alone will be enough to safeguard them. We tend to raid any passers as they go, we don`t kill them all... but those who simply get in our claws first..."

Vanargand gloated with a confident attitude before launching himself into a run into the rocky landscape whilst the wolf carrying Kassandra followed suit. From time to time Vanargand gazed at Kassandra and his subordinate, eying the odd setting, that had taken place, but knowing all too well there wouldn`t be any problems. They crossed the landscape with great speed and soon enough caught up with the rest of the pack.

The wolves of the pack gazed, one at a time, with doubt in their eyes towards Kassandra yet never minded her presence as she seemed not to cause any problems not to mention they would not want to defy their leader. After passing a small mountain river, that slowly flowed down the slopes and joined with the greater into the Aduin in the north.

Finally the hunters arrived near their targets, campfires blazing on the mountain side made the wolves quiet down and begin slowly crouching towards suitable hiding spots. Vanargand gazed at Kassandra quietly pondering whether her place was there in hiding or with them on the field.

"Shall you join us admist the feast, yet know that danger shall lurk there lest you enjoy it? If you do come then he shall carry you all along, but be wary tough, he shall not stop from killing still."

He warned before hand lest she wanted to find herself on the ground, coughing up dirt.