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in the trees

The hypnotic thump of their large paws against the ground had me standing still, my mind blank, my hands shaking.

Finally realizing what was happening, the others suddenly a blur next to me, I felt my hand being jerked behind my back, spinning me around. not caring who possibly grabbed my hand, we all sprinted in the directions of the trees.

Gaining on the group in a flash we resorted to stabbing and killing the beasts. feeling something grab the end of my scabbard I swung around, in an ugly warg's mouth was my scabbard, the leather bending in his jaws. Gasping, a hot feeling of acid reflex trickled up my throat, the smell of wet dog around us. Grabbing the hilt of my sword and scaring the creature, I slashed at his face, cutting around his forehead, the blood dripping into his eyes. Yowling, letting go of the home of my sword I continued to run to the trees.

Running as far as we could until a cliff stopped us, we panted, swinging around my sword pointing at the other wargs and orcs, My family around me.

"Up into the trees all of you!" Gandalf shouted, his voice hoarse and a hint of fear laced with his authority.

Swallowing my fear and shoving the sword into its home and stepping onto a stub on the side of a tree, I hoisted myself up.

Up, Up, Up It would have seemed as if I had been climbing forever if my eyes didn't sting from the scared tears leaking out. One hand after another, One foot after the other.

Up and up the rest of my family struggled and grappled to get up the large pine trees, the screaming of the wargs making my ears ring, snapping at the hobbits toes, the rest of the company scrambled up the tall trees.

running around the pines, the wargs stalked our hiding place, the growls of annoyance apparent in the way they ran, their tails held high in anger. one of the wargs, jumping up against the tree, realized that their weight was too much, began banging himself into the tree to get them to fall like apples from a common apple tree. 

screaming as the tree began its trip downward, my family and I began flinging ourselves from tree to tree, bending my knees and breathing in I jumped to the tree at least ten feet from me, hitting the branch oddly my hands slipped on the tree, my cheek pressing against the bark cutting into my face, my hands littered with splinters. Stabilizing my feet I made my flight to the next tree and the next. Opening my tear-ridden eyes, I saw that there was only one more tree in front of me, we all needed to get free from this hell or we would be making our way to our graves. With one more painful jump, We all made our way to the final tree.

 As I adjusted to my new position, I realized why it had gone silent, the air cold-

in front of us, appearing suddenly stood the terrible Azog, atop his ugly white steed, sniffed the air. The smirk on his ugly face was apparent as I watched in horror as the defiler stood his ground, in line with Thorin who stood transfixed in his tree.

" Do you smell that?" the hideous Orc whispered in his foreign tongue 

"The scent of fear?" 

Taking in another long sniff the creature raised his face to thorin, spitting his black tongue to the king saying," I remember your father reeked of it...Thorin...son...of...Thrain"

The taste of bile in my mouth stung my tongue, the sight of the grotesque brute made my head spin, my stomach churn, and all I wished to do was to shove his axe down his fat mouth. His words worked like a knife to Thorin. One of the king's many Achilles heals had been shot and the king was going down like a ruscabell rabbit, the gravity taking him down with a vengeance.

"It cannot be." He whispered, his mouth curling up in disgust and terror, the familiar hate returning to his blood, making him boil.

narrowing his beety eyes, Azog raised his axe hand and pointed it at thorin, a shadow slipping past his brow Azog laughed," That one is mine. KILL THE OTHERS."

running to our pine, the wargs circled us, ramming themselves against it as if it was a hill they were rolling down. breathing heavily I looked all around me and above my head. Above me Gandalf was blowing on a pine cone, fire emitting from the seeds. throwing him and dropping me one, I did the same, yelling Filis name and torpedoing the cone he did the same. suddenly the tree, shaking like a leaf in the wind fell, the screams of terror shook the forest, the family I loved grabbed onto each other as the threat of falling continued to ebbe toward us in such a terrible manner. Everything behind me was a mystery, for even the thought of turning to check on them made my skin crawl, and all I could do was listen to the terrible screams of my family.

 the forest was ablaze, red and orange heating up the night. With the courage of the lion, thorin stood up at his full height and started his descent from the edge of the tree. Walking through the fire with his sword to his side, Thorin Oakensheild son of Thrain began his sprint going for the scared orc, the death of his father fresh on his mind from the threats from his opponent. 

Outreaching his arms, Azog, upon his white warg, pushed off of the rock he stood upon, the flat of his axe hitting thorin in the head, a loud yell falling from Thorin's mouth... The cocky orc, not turning to finish what he started, jerked his bald head to his left and ordered his ally and bode him

'bring me the head of the dwarf'.

feeling my eyes widen and my throat constricts, I struggled to stand up, to run to his defense just like the other dwarfs, and to my surprise, Bilbo stood up, his sword drawn, and took his first step toward his king...