Taudhoron's eyes grow wider and wider until he shouts again, his small voice ringing between the trees. "You're just being a big bully again, Rhossiell!" Down he leaps to a lower branch, and down again to the earth, grace trailing his black-booted feet as he falls easily through the air and landing quietly. He smiles bravely to Hinloth, "Don't listen to your sister. She's just lying."
Magliell looks at the other ellith scornfully. "Nonsense, Rhossiell! Trees can't
talk, everyone knows that!" She flicks back her blonde-brown curls, sticking her
chin up again and starting to flounce off. "I'm not afraid of anything in this
old forest! An' even if there were monsters here, I can fight them off! In fact,
I think I'll go looking for some! There's nothing else to do." She waves her
stick-sword over her head again, already day-dreaming of when she would be grown
and a Knight in the Order, valiantly fighting off all the yrch single-handedly!
Rhossiell smirks at the reactions and waves to her little sister, "Hey Hin." She
shrugs and looks to the other two edhel almost challengingly, "Well then, if I'm
making things up, you all wouldn't be afraid to explore with me? Hmmm? Then
we'll find out if what I said is real!"
"Shhhhh Taudhoron. You'll wake them up, and they're already whispering."
Hinloth bites at her lip nervously, her grip tightening about both her doll and
her sister's arm. She glances about at the tall trees swaying and the echo is
seemingly swallowed far too quickly.
"I wish Dangelydh were here, Rhossiell. -He'd- be smart enough not to
yell." With a scowl towards Magliell as she bravely flounces off, and another at
Taudhoron as he bravely proclaims that he will protect them, she gulps and
follows those who begin the exploration of this queer wood. "Trees do too speak.
They're whispering right now, and they say that they're angry," she protests
weakly."
"Fine by me." Taudhoron pronounces bravely, then calls to the other scattered
children not nearby, "Come on, now. We're going to explore further in!" He
marches forward and snidely down to Rhossiell (an oddity as she is taller than
he. "My aunt Hyardoel knows everything about trees, but hasn't ever said a word
about /talking/ ones. Those tales aren't true at all." He skips ahead of the
trailing children and runs to the fore.
"Did you see that!?" asks Hinloth in a high pitched, squealing whisper.
"There's a patch of light over there, and the trees all bent towards it! I don't
even feel a breeze ..." As she walks along the great ruts in the earth, the
little Laiquendi glances over his shoulder to Taudhoron and says, still
scowling, "Then your aunt needs to leave Lothlorien every so often. Dangelydh,
on the other hand, is -old-, older than some trees! And he tells me tales of
tales that he was told, and in those tales trees talk. But you needn't hear any
of these tales. Just look!" Biting her lower lip again, the young elleth's grip
on Rhossiell's hand tightens as she walks in tow.
Rhossiell allows her younger sister to hold her hand, and doesn't even scowl,
she is so in awe of the forest, much unlike Lothlorien. She peers around for
this light that Hinloth speaks of, and as she finds it, she almost yelps at the
odd sight of the bent trees. The other young Laiquendi nods to Hinloth, "Yea,
Dangelydh told me tales of the trees too; but I still don't think that he is
taller than they!"
Magliell straightens up and looks toward the area that Hinloth was talking
about. Her small face a picture of cruel curiosity, she starts forward, make-
believe sword held vertically up in front of her face. "Come on, then!" she
says, beckoning to the others. "I want to have a look! Unless...you're
scared..." She turns around for a moment and a smile incredibly akin to innocent
sweetness appears on her face. "Come on!"
Taudhoron's eyes grow wide again, little moons in the darkness. He falls back
from the front of the group as they near the bent trees and manages to move
slyly toward the sisters. He glances from Hinloth to Rhossiell and questions,
"Dangelydh says they are true? And trees do talk?" A queer, sidelong look he
gives to the patch of moonlight again, but he calls, "I'll come with you,
Magliell! I'm not afeared at all." He starts forward again, hopping over roots
and skipping over brambles with a great deal less eagerness than a moment ago.
Soon he has nearly caught up to the brave little lass.
And lo! suddenly the sunlight dims, the great leaves and branches of the forest
seeming to move in concert to block it out.
The Fangorn Forest becomes truly a gloomy place. And there is a wind, that
sounds nearly like a great voice -- it seems to come from the south, and it
seems to grow closer.
Rhossiell walks with her sister in the back of the group still, rather
leisurely. But as a dark wind seems to pass over the elvish children, her eyes
grow wide and her mouth opens slightly. She looks around nervously, and pulls
Hinloth's hand, running to catch up to the others, fearful of what is behind
her...but as she speeds up, she realizes that it is all around them.
Hinloth nods slowly, her face turned to the black trees, ominously barring the
way, where once their path had been clear. "He does," she whispers, letting go
of Rhossiell's hand and following Taudhoron, cautiously.
Then suddenly ...
The darkling day causes her to halt - not merely her step, but her entire body.
She does not breath, her tiny knuckles whiten upon her hold of the little doll.
Indeed, even her wide, dark eyes do not stray. "Taudhoron ... Magliell ... is
that ... you?" she whispers cautiously. "Don't run off. Stay together." Her
voice is urgent, for the darkness that quite suddenly crept up and her release
of Rhossiel's hand has left her all alone, in the centre of the deep rutted
path.
As the young elves go farther into the forest, the roots become harder to leap
over, and the brambles cling to their clothes. The sound, low booming hum,
carries on the wind from the South, rolling over the trees, and the forest seems
the densest to the North, and any path there which seems clear suddenly appears
barred as you approach.
Taudhoron stills, his black boots rooting to the ground that feeds this ancient
forest as the trees seem to move around him. He holds his breath, and does not
look for Magliell ahead of him at all, but instead casts his eyes about in the
search of some danger. A voice whispers unexpectedly near, and he sidles toward
it unlooking. Clear eyes glance up to see Hyardoel, and he whispers, "Where did
your sister go?" He startles violently at the booming hum, and takes a brief
step toward it, his little hands made to trembling fists.
Feeling that her younger sister had let go of her grip, Rhossiell twirls around
on her heel, and peers in the darkness for Hinloth. Fear is in her voice and
heart as she takes a step in the opposite direction of the others, and calls
meekly, in an almost whisper, "Hinloth! Hinloth! Where are you." The young
Laiquendi takes another step, and looks backwards, before making her way to the
direction where she thinks that little Hinloth may have travelled off to....
After charging into the forest, sure of herself and finding a way, Magliell is
suddenly very confused, and scared. The path seems to dissapear in front of her,
and the light darkens, lending her surroundings the appearance of one of her
nightmares. She stops, spinning around to look at the others. She can pick out
Taudhoron, but she can only hear the other two. "Where are you?" her strangled
cry bursts from her throat, and suddenly she feels like crying. Sniffing loudly,
she grips her play sword tightly and runs back to where Taudhoron is.
And then...
The paths of the forest change. Where once there was a way to the north and the
west, now there is nothing save branches and boles. Yet in other places there
are new paths, and they seem to be leading somewhere.
"Ugh!" The sound of hastened, thoughtless steps heralds a muffled grunt
before a body meets the earth. Its noise is nearly clausterphobic ... Roots and
twigs grope towards the light shadow in the darkened day, snapping back as
little Hinloth's figure flees southerly, alike a deer, yet far less graceful.
Scrambling to her feet, perhaps deeming a cry out for her friends to be futile,
the elleth drops her doll and the image of Dangelydh lies limpy in a rut in the
forest floor. A shaft of sunlight, mayhap the only one in the darkeness that
serves day within this hostile forest, alights the face with a pallid light,
though Hinloth has fled.
Rhossiell follows in the wake of Hinloth, though she doesn't find much to trail.
A huge root stick out in front of her, ominous, as if daring her to climb over
it. She almost smiles for a moment, as she simply ducks under it, but then
shudders and runs away from it quickly. After about five minutes, she trips
harshly, landing her chin on a rock. Blood drops onto the rooted ground, but she
finds a clue almost; the doll that Hinloth carries with her.
The elder, yet still quite young elleth, makes to run, yet tries to keep
her eyes focused on the ground, thinking that maybe, Hinloth is not far away.
Taudhoron's already-pallid face nigh drains of blood and serves as a moon,
gathering any light to it. "Wait!" he calls after the fleeing elleth, glancing
about trepidatiously as again the forest seems to shift. A few other children
scramble over high roots and brambles, choosing the same path that Hinloth took,
and he looks uncertainly to Magliell near. His chin trembles and his eyes fill
with tears, but a brave swallow he takes as he banishes these away. "Come on,"
he says to her, "Let's follow them." A deep breath wells his small form, ere he
leaps over a root and takes the easy path open to them.
In his headlong dash after Hinloth, Rhibi trips on a root and falls headlong.
Pushing himself to his knees, a fresh smear of dirt layered over those already
there, the small boy looks around. The other children are out of sight now. "C-
cabor?" he quavers. "Ethir?? Where are you?"
Magliell runs after him, skirts held in one hand and stick in the other. She
does her best to leap over the roots and duck under branches, but her skirt
manages to get in her way and she falls several times. "Wait! Taudhoron! Don't
leave me!" she shouts, bravery and battle glory forgotten in her supposed dash
for her life.
Suddenly her curls get caught on an overhead branch, and she screams, "Help!
Help! They've got me! Help!" She struggles to get free, now bursting into tears.
Trepidation, reserve... perhaps a touch of fear. These are healthy things to
have when entering the formidable Fangorn... yet these are precisely qualities
that a certain diminutive Silvan lacks as he wistfully weaves amidst the thorn
and bramble of this ancient wood.
Rather do sapphire eyes alight as Gailglin eases his way in soft travail, the
light sing-song of his voice barely pervading the deep echoes wrought beneath
the dense bowers "This... seems like a right and proper spot?" His expression
brightening further amid the slight pause in his step, Gailglin then holds aloft
a makeshift walking stick tied with a kerchief of bright alabaster. The wee
edhel then levies a smug smile toward this concocted invention before summarily
planting it sound in the ground. Then, in a called decree belying his tiny size
does the ever-audible Gailgin pronounce "I claim this land in the name of the
Fangornhrim!"
The shadows darken, dance around the kids. The path where Taudhoron jsut ran
through now appears completely blocked by thorns and bramble, so much that it's
hard to even imagine a child finding his way through a moment ago. One thing is
for sure, nobody can follow him this way.
Now far ahead of those who may have followed after her, Hinloth rushes
heedlessly south and east. The trees seem to welcome her, for no longer do they
tear at the hem of her skirt, but rather, they part as if shepherding her deeper
within the forest. Many are the shadows that linger yet in daylight, and perhaps
they swallow her figure entirely, for her cries for her sister and the other
edhil and drowned, almost as they issue between her opened lips.
Still travelling with speed and in a wayward direction, Rhossiell gives out a
last cry, as loud as she can muster, "Hinloth!!" Yet, the sound seems faint and
weak, as if it barely has the strength to echo to her own ears. The girl has
lost her bossiness, and is now just very frightened, and slows her pace to a
walk, whimpering. She hears none of her friends behind her or anywhere around
her, only the ominous sound of nothingness, adorned with the sound of twigs
snapping below her feet.
She slows her pace to a walk, eyes of deep chestnut very wide and looking all
about. Her breath is short, as if she dares to take it. She knows that whatever
entraps them, they have met their match.
Taudhoron slows...then skids to a stop at Magliell's cry for help. His eyes roll
wildly around the area, ere he turns around. But Magliell is not behind him;
indeed, it seems as though no one could ever have passed that way. He slowly
spins again, lips parted but no speech coming from him yet. When finally he does
speak, it is in a high and wavering voice that contrasts well with his earlier
shout. "Can...can anybody..hear me?"
A cry from behind him catches Rhibi's attention and he turns. Looking fearfully
around him, the shadows shifting and changing uncannily, he takes first one step
and then another back the way he has come. "Magliell? Was that you? I.. I'll
come find you.. don't be afraid." His brave words seem rather unconvincing,
since his own voice is still trembling. But the path has changed and long after
he should have found her, the forest is still empty. Still he trudges on, every
now and then stopping to call out again; and then to listen for the never-heard
answer.
A sliver of sunlight pierces the leaves of the trees. It's almost as if the
trees beckon someone to climb towards the light...
Finally calming down enough to realize that it was only a branch that held her
hair, Magliell was able to extract herself from it. Weary now and not being able
to hear any of her companions any longer, she slumps down to the base of the
tree, knees held up to her chest, hugging the play sword tightly, for want of
anything else to hug. Letting her tears run freely down her cheeks, she tries
vainly to make herself invisible. "I'm going to die...I just know it. Where are
the others?" she manages to choke out, talking to herself in an attempt to feel
better. So absorbed in her own gloomy thoughts, she doesn't notice the light at
first, but continues to cry quietly.
As the jubilance of the moment passes... elation slowly wanes to a gaining
confusion as Gailglin starts forth from his propped marker amid the distance
call. "Now where have they gone? Did they not know they were supposed to
follow...?" A soft sigh of exacerbation passes the slight Silvan's lips as his
wonder sparks an intent stride "Here ye, here ye! Gailglin, Minstrel and Map
Master of the Fangornhrim, decrees that we should all..." Doe-like lashes bat in
slight perplexment as the youth then starts to gaze about "... everyone should
come here?"
Yet another pause ensues, the eerie silence perhaps even getting to this brave,
if not oblivious, little edhel as he last trails his bright gaze in further
ascent. Momentary worry then sheds to a kindled grin as he then starts forward
toward the nearest tree, tiny hands stretching for a handhold as he begins
fleet-footed ascend "Well, if you can not find me, then... I will find you!
Really, what would they do without me?"
"I can hear you ... Is that you Taudhoron?"
Hinloth's weak voice comes as one far distant. First from the south, then from
the east. Indeed, almost as if it wells from all about with the changing paths
of the trees, the faint rustling of footsteps among thick foliage is come to the
stifling breeze. But Hinloth's figure is come between two dark standing trees.
Her step is slow and she turns about to assure herself that the trees do not
grope at her with her passage. And it is lit, as a lamp in the shadow, silver-
grey and verdant bright among the darkness, if only to Taudhoron, for no other
does she see. "Well, even if it isn't Dangelydh the Valiant, I am glad to see
you! The ... trees. They follow me. They are not pleased."
Her younger sister's doll in hand, Rhossiell moves slowly, and cautiously
through the forest, trying to ignore the dread that creeps within her. In the
corner of her eye she catches the sliver of light, and narrows her chestnut
eyes. She walks slowly towards it, a path seeming to open up in front of her;
though it is still quite haphazard. Her tunic and her boots are both now
thoroughly worn and beaten, still make do well for her travel, at least, better
than some gown, thinks the child. She almost 50 or a hundred meters away from
the spot of light, and finds a large tree near to her and starts to climb it
cautiously, hoping that it is not one of the wakened trees. She goes almost a
quarter of the way up, and peers out into the distance.
The voices of the children echo throughout the forest... One moment a call comes
from there, a second later the same voice rings from the opposite direction. And
above, over the treetops, the wind rolls different echoes, of low voices from
far away. They speak not with words, not anything the Elves can understand
anyway, but they are getting closer.
"I'm the captain. I'm supposed to be brave." Softly Rhibi mutters these words to
himself, even as he eyes the forest that surrounds him. As he wanders, the air
itself seems to grow brighter and the fright in his eyes fades a little. After
all, these are wonderous trees. His mood changing mercurially, a sparkle growing
in light-green eyes. "I'll bet I could climb one..." In an encouraging tone, he
tells himself, "After all, whoever heard of a quendi being afraid of trees?" An
odd sound freezes him in his steps and he stares around, a hint of former fear
returning. "Cabor?" he calls again. "Are you there?"
Finally noticing the light, Magliell struggles to her feet and dries her tears
with the back of her hand. Sniffing constantly, she looks around and starts to
wander toward it, both hands gripping her toy tightly. "Taudhoron?" She sniffs
again. "Rhossiell? Where are you?"
Taudhoron is silent, and very still, as though perhaps lack of motion would make
him unnoticable. When a bit of sunlight flashes to one side of him, even his
eyes do not move for the space of a few, stretching heartbeats. In a quick
motion, his gaze flits toward it. He seems to sway toward the light a bit, his
silver shirt even calling it toward him and reflecting it back.
A voice calls near him, and this does finally spur the lad forth. "Hinloth!" he
speaks low and urgent. "Well glad am I to see you, as well!" He halts near her
and grows silent head cocking. Suddenly he calls, "Rhibi!" He shrinks into
himself at his own loud voice. He whispers to Hinloth, "Come on. I think he's
this way...we can see better over there, anyway." Together, the lad and the
little elleth walk southwards.
In soft consternation does Gailglin steady himself amid his lofty perch,
diminutive fingers splayed upon an oddly-shaped nobbed growth from the wood.
However, the wee Silvan seems to pay little heed to this peculiarity, rather
regarding the weighty din of the primordial forest until at least he summons
forth a ginger call "Come out, come out, whereever you are? Really, and you do
say we Silvans are overly fond of games? How will we ever build the kingdom of
the Fangornhrim if we do not gather together? Besides..." says the young edhel
in a measure of glumness "Rhibi has the lembas."
The limbs begin to bend towards Gailglin--
They seem so very much like large, strong, biting hands. For all that, they do
not seem to be very friendly.
Hearing a voice above her, a good distance away, but still hearable, Rhossiell's
eyes widen fearfully. She looks in front of her, at the 'bark of the tree.' Her
breath is short, and her arms and legs grow weak. Hearing the voice was only the
last straw. The elleth can not even managed a choked call after the, 'Come out,
come out, wherever you are.' The dim vision around her fades to black as the
elleth lets go of her hold and falls into the dark of day....
But lo! another handlike limb, reaches out and cushions the fall of Rhossiell.
Unlike the hand that malovently closes itself over Gailglin, this one seems
almost warm and friendly. In fact, you might almost like the second of the limb-
hands.
Falling...falling, but, she is caught! The girl falls gently into the palm like
place of the handlike limb. Her body is just as a ragdoll, yet she still holds
the real ragdoll attatched to her belt. One of her legs dangles over the hand,
and her head rolls to the side.
"Building, building," comes a strange voice from near the top of the trees. "And
falling, falling. Hoom, curiouser and curiouser!" And then the hands begin to
twist inward towards the bole of the great tree.
And from the top of the trees, a pair of great brown and green eyes begin to
look at the little elves.
Magliell walks faster, calling out again and again the names of her friends,
louder and louder still. "Where are you guys? Don't leave me! Don't eat all the
lembas, either! Where are you?" Green eyes grow wider and wider as she starts to
run, hoping against hope that she'll bump into someone. "Where are you?" her cry
escapes from her throat in a horrible rush, making it feel torn and rough. She
falls again, and pushes herself up, looking around and trying to remember the
last direction the voices had come from.
Rhossiell groans and sits up on the hand, and nurses her head, which apparently
got hit when she fell, despite the 'cushioned fall.' Her eyes remain closed for
a moment, trying to rid herself of the ache. She doesn't remember though, much
of what had happened, thinking that it had been a bad nightmare. She figures
that she is back at the camp, and stands up, taking a few steps. She then
realizes that she has almost walked right off a branch. She swings her arms to
keep her level and balanced. She scratched her head for a moment, trying to
remember...
Slowly the little elf girl turns around, a look of terror and fear upon her
countenance. She sees one great, big eye looking directly at her and screams!
Her scream can still only be barely heard, but in her own mind it is quite loud
enough. She becomes hasty, even for an elf, and makes to run off the limb which
she is on, quite frantically.
"Hooom!" the strange voice booms again. And the eyes lower until they are nearly
upon the young elf-maid. "What is the meaning of this? Screaming! Hom, hrm,
romty-toom. Quiet, little thing, or I shall decide that I don't quite like you
anymore!"
Rhossiell squeals at the ent, this time knowing that it clearly is what she has
been told about, if only in fairy tales. Her breath falls ragged and quickly,
her eyes wide. She almost cries, but holds back the tears. She falls back down
on the hand as the voice speaks, and edges away from the eye as far as she can.
Her lower lip quivers. She cannot, though, manage any words to this strange
creature, not yet.
"Hrum, now turn round so I can get a good look at you!" the tree continues,
rotating his limb hand about so that he can look at the young elf from all
directions. "You have a very odd voice for an elf. Not, I say, for singing and
dancing. It's quite painful, and I'll ask you not to be hasty and keep your
voice to yourself, hmm?"
Hearing a scream, Magliell takes off again, running wildly in the direction that
she thought it came from. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" she shouts, screaming out
anything that she happens to think of. She twirled her toy sword above her head.
"Don't worry! I'm coming! Wait for me!"
"What is this!" the Ent exclaims, turning slowly to look at the approaching
Magliell. "Another one! And this one twirling a twig above its head. Root and
branch!"
Then a sort of laughter raises forth from the tree, and it begins to lumber
towards Magliell. "Hoo now! Hoo indeed!" It says, bending down to examine this
curiousity.
Rhossiell brings Hinloth's doll out of her belt, and looks at it, likeness of
Dangelydh. She whimpers softly, and holds it close. She tries to stand
cautiously, but ends up back on her rump, cursing her legs of jello. She hears
the ent say, 'Another one!' and perks, and then looks over the limb cautiously.
A great smile of relief comes to her as she sees another little elleth, though,
she dares not to speak to her.
Magliell skids to a stop, staring up at the -thing- in front of her, green eyes
wide with fright. Seeing Rhossiell, she's suddenly more afraid for the other
elleth than for herself. Putting her best Knightly scowl on her face, she glares
up at the Ent and says, "Put her down /now!/" She then rushes forward and pokes
it with her stick as if she was stabbing it. Realizing what she had done, her
eyes go wide again and she backs away a little bit.
The Ent gives a small laugh as he feels something like a dull prodding in his
bark. "Hoo now! That tickles, by Yavanna!" He hooms happily and with two sharp
ent-fingers tries to pluck at Gailglin's tunic! And then once this is
accomplished, he will most certainly toss the little creature high into the air
and catch it easily in the palm of his hand.
Rhossiell perks when she hears the name Yavanna, and stands more steadily,
though she still wobbles. She holds the doll close and whispers, hoping that her
voice won't be bad anymore, "You can't be bad! You...you said Yavanna!" She
dares to take a careful step towards the ent on the limb.
Squirming from on high amidst the verdant foliage, Gailglin's voice has since
shed its jovial call... instead carrying on in intent protestation "Hey...
hey... put me down, villain who steals the Fangornhrim from their lookout
towers! Or... tree..." It is not too far off where a flush-faced Silvan steals a
dour glare at this unseen foe, though the mounting (yet impotent) ire seems to
surrender to a sudden, soft blink as the din of the Ent matches the now widening
ancient eye upon him. It is all that the wee edhel might muster a quiet "Oh...",
those sapphire eyes blinking still in obvious confusion at his predicament.
"Hom," the Ent says, looking critically down at Gailglin. "A little jostling
wouldn't hurt you either!" And so he begins, or at least attempts, to toss
Gailglin also up and down in the palm of his hand. "Fangornhrim indeed!" he says
with a booming Entish chortle.
Then he turns his eyes to gaze upon Rhossiell. "Of course we know of Yavanna,
young little thing! She is the Great Mother, the Breath of Life!"
Rhossiell looks over to the other two edhil with a quick glance, and then back
to the ent. She walks slowly towards one of the great eyes that watches her,
walking out upon the 'arm' of the tree limb, her own arms out for stability.
When she comes within a few meters of it she almost pouts. "So you...you're not
evil?" She asks tentatively.
Magliell blinks as Gailglin joins her in the Ent's palm and slowly stands up.
Pushing her curls out of her face, she glares at it again. "Put us down! Put us
down, or...I'll stab you with my sword!" She shakes it at his eye, free hand on
her hip. "Put us down!" She stamps one tiny foot indignantly.
"Oh hoo now!" The Ent says, dissolving into rich peals of laughter as Magliell
threatens him. "We're none of us going anywhere now, young elves. That would be
hasty; and don't be hasty, that's my motto."
Then he looks at Rhossiell as if considering her words for a moment. "Good,
evil? Who knows? These words are hasty. But we here don't take sides unless we
are roused!" And he shivers violently, to show what a roused Ent would look
like.
Rhossiell topples over and does a somersault in the Ent's hands as she shivers,
almost knocking the children off. She pouts at him again and says, "That was
pretty hasty yourself!"
"Never such a thing!" The Ent says with a great shiver. "It was long in coming.
I've been meaning to do that since the Entwives abandoned us, but never quite
got around to it."
Gailglin's mouth opens as if to offer further protest, but at the sudden tussle
do the diminutive Silvan's eyes flash amid an overly-audible "He... hey!" Flaxen
brows then furrow in unison with a resounding fret as Gailglin's hands seek for
a solid hold. Then, in an exacerbated exhale does he proclaim "Wait, wait! We
are Galadhrim! Lady... Galadriel... would not be... happy.... if we are hurt!"
All this is said as the tiny Silvan is jostled by the Ent.
Rhossiell shhhhsshshs Gailglin as he speaks and yells quite loudly, "No one's
supposed to know where we're from!!" She chastises him, and scowls.
"Galadhrim! The Golden Mallorns!" The Ent booms again, beginning to walk with
all the elves in tow. "I have been there, and fought against the burarum." At
the mention of burarum he begins to shake violently again. "The trees aren't
very smart there, if you ask me. But then again, they are hasty!"
Magliell falls over, landing on her behind as the Ent shook himself. "That
wasn't nice!" she tells him stiffly. "In fact, it was rather rude!" She gets to
her feet again, rubbing herself where she fell. "Yes, we're Galadhrim. And I
like our mallyrn better than any of the trees here!" She sticks her chin up
again and stabs his palm with her stick for good measure.
"Now, now," The Ent says almost chidingly, his long strides eating up the
ground, "you won't be going back to your golden woods, if you keep this up! I'm
fairly sure I like you, but that could change with the blowing of the winds.
Stop being hasty for a moment, and let's see what we can do about you. Hrm, or
maybe you should just be trodden upon and tossed into the Entwash?"
Rhossiell gulps at the Ents words, and holds onto a finger-like branch to
support herself. She says, "But...but...wouldn't deciding you don't like us be
hasty?!" Though she says the words almost in a plea. At the thought of being
thrown into 'Entwash' she almost cries again.
In yet another huff does Gailglin finally stay himself... taking the brief
moment to brush at his flustered cheek as the wee Silvan attempts to gain
composure. Then, in tow of a mulling chew at his lower lip does the fair edhel
offer "We... did not hurt anything or anyone, Hir Ent? Will you please, please
put us down...? For we are told in stories that Ents are not evil... but good?"
Soft hope kindles within this youth's brilliant eyes as he gazes up toward the
forest giant.
"Hir Ent!" The Ent booms, laughing like the bellowing of a great organ, "I like
that. You'll do, young elf! But come, nobody will be putting anybody down quite
yet. The huorns are out of control just now, and I shouldn't feel very good to
see you all swallowed up by the evil ones."
At the Ent's words Magliell stops blabbering for a moment and gulps, and the
little elleth inside her that was hungry and tired and lost and truly very
scared surfaces for a moment. "Please, don't squish us. We didn't do anything
wrong, not really." At his next words she sat down hard on his palm.
"Evil...ones? Swallow us?"
"The huorns," says then the Ent, "are like as not to gobble you up, I fear. They
are quite hasty for trees, but it's lucky that you found me first! The mindless
things will listen to me, oh yes they will!"
Gailglin chews at his lower lip as honeyspun brows both arch. Then, in softer
inquiry does the young Galad lean forward in tentative question "What... is a
huorn...?" However, the chiding seems to steal Gailglin's attention anew,
causing a sudden rush of soft crimson upon the littlest of the adventurers'
cheeks.
Rhossiell looks, quite puzzled, at the ent, and sits back down, still clinging
for dear life. She asks meekly, "Where are we going Hir Ent?"
The sound of rustling leaves can be heard, and a young elf appears from the
forest. He stops and gazes up in awe at the towering tree, and the stare of its
black eyes. His senses still awed by the mighty Ent, Laergell looks around, and
sees those whom he traveled with..."Gailglin, Magliel, Rhossiell....I found
you!!" And to the ent his head does turn...he bows deeply in respect, "Lord of
the forest...." is all that his quavering voice can muster.
"Where, where, where? What, what, what?" asks the Ent, again chiding. His green
eyes look down at them: a queer, half-amused look. Surely, this great tree is a
friend now. "So many questions in so short a time. Hrum now," he says, turning
to face Laergell. "And yet another! What are you then, sprites escaped from the
eaves of Lothlorien? But come, but come, tell me why you all have come here to
the Fangorn! It is a dark place, you know, not for young folk to be prowling
about."
Rhossiell peers down at Laergell, ignoring the ents question for a moment. She
yells down, "Where did you go off to? Where are the others? Have you seen them?
Where are they?! Where is Hinloth??" She yells the slew of questions to him, her
own fright forgotten.
Without a word, the Ent stops moving. Suddenly he becomes perfectly treelike --
and it seems that he is a tree now rather than a living creature.
The wind flows around him, and the wood seems to lighten.
Next Scene
