A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

Into The Dark

They ran.

They ran even once they passed far into the darkness of the forest, Thorin faithfully tugging her arm, urging her to move faster through the dense foliage.

"Quit your bumbling and pick those feet up," He snapped, as she tripped over roots and rocks trying to keep his pace. Trees blurred together in a muted cacophony of colors and shapes.

She could hear the voices of the other company members shouting and gasping for breath. She caught snatches of dark blurs moving through the trees, weaving in and outside her field of vision. She wasn't sure if wargs were coming after them, or the company keeping pace.

Quite suddenly, Thorin thrust Lyla to the ground as he whipped around, drawing his sword. Lyla barely had time to blink before a large grey warg descended on them, snapping and snarling.

The beast lunged at Thorin who gave a growl of his own and brought his sword down upon the warg's skull, termporarily immobilizing the creature. Dwalin, Dori and Bifur were close behind, Ramming their weapons into the beast's hide, ensuring a swift death.Then Thorin was yanking her to her feet again and they continued running until Lyla was certain her lungs would burst.

Finally, when they were a good distance down the old pathway into the forest, Thorin's strides slowed, his grip on her wrist loosened and he stopped, panting.

A large portion of the company, Lyla included, sank to the ground gasping for breath. But even as they sat wheezing and huffing, Lyla strained her ears listening for the sounds of howling or Beorn's bear growls.

She heard nothing other than the sounds of the company as they rustled and groaned, their heavy footfalls and breathing ringing in her ears.

Part of her was thankful.

The other part fretted over Beorn's condition. Was he alright? Had they hurt him?

She shook her head to dispell the thoughts of harm coming her new friend's way. He had to be alright.

She refused to consider anything else.

But then her mind struck on a thought that had her shuddering:

Not a sound was reaching the company.

Apart from the noise her companions were making, the entire forest was silent. No birds twittered, no beasts scurried, no leaves rustled. It was a deadly silence that had the hairs on Lyla's neck prickling, a trickle of fear creeping down her spine.

Then... a noise. Barely there, an infinitesimal snapping of a twig set Lyla on edge, eyes scanning into the darkness.

She scrambled to her feet and waited with baited breath, muscles tightly wound, heart hammering, panting agitatedly.

Waiting.

But nothing happened.

The air escaped Lyla's lungs in a loud 'whoosh' as her muscles slowly uncoiled themselves, her stance relaxing slightly.

Then a growl reverberated in the shadows, low and dangerous. A hissing whisper followed.

Lyla's hand went to the sword around her waist. But, surprisingly no one else moved.

And nothing charged them.

But she could have sworn that...

"Easy there lad," Bofur chattered, clapping her on the shoulder, "I figger we outran 'em. Ye can let go of yer sword if ye like."

Warily eyeing the darkness surrounding her, she released the grip on her sword, her fingers aching from holding so tightly.

Had she imagined it?