Hi! Fear not, Jay wasn't permanently damaged in the last chapter. Maybe this one, though... or maybe not. You'll have to read to find out.

The Wilds, TA 3015—Early Autumn

"I really must buy him a horse," Alahn mused as he watched his small friend grooming Alahn's golden stallion. Jay's head barely reached the middle of the horse's belly, but the elf had no problem with hopping onto Firefly's back to reach the higher spots on the horse. Indeed, Alahn was sure he saw a hint of a smile on Jay's blank face.

Alahn, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as carefree; every few seconds, his eyes left his two friends to go darting over the surrounding hills, straining to catch a glimpse of the orc band which he knew to be following him, perhaps the same ones who had chased him into Rivendell weeks before.

. . . . . .

As it turned out, Alahn needn't have bothered to be so alert, because it was Firefly who noticed the orcs' approach some hours later—and a good thing he did, too, because their warg mounts did not give the trio much time to flee. Luckily, Jay, despite having never seen an orc or one of their giant canine allies except from a great distance, understood the danger and was on Firefly's back with his belongings in an instant. Alahn vaulted up behind him a moment later, and off they went. Still, they had a problem; the sun was nearing the horizon, and while a fine Rohan-bred horse could outrun wargs in the daylight, he could not pick his way quickly enough in the darkness. If the three did not escape somehow, they would have to fight, and Alahn did not like their odds, which were at least two to one, and probably more, not to mention that neither of his friends could use a sword.

The human knew they would never lose their enemies before dark, so when they came across a thick stand of trees, Alahn steered his galloping horse toward it in the hope that the tangled branches would at least discourage their enemies from sneaking up behind them. He drew Firefly to a stop and dismounted, putting Firefly and Jay between him and the trees, and turned to scan the surrounding hills intently as the wargs' baying drew closer.

He didn't have long to wait; within minutes the wolflike monsters came into view, the orcs on their backs readying their weapons. There were exactly six wargs, each ridden by an orc, but despite their obvious advantage, the creatures did not attack immediately; they were intelligent enough to know that their group would be smaller by the time the human with the sharp sword was dead.

That didn't matter much to them, though, and so the biggest warg barked for the attack to begin.

Alahn's hope had faded as soon as he saw the pack's numbers; he could hope to defeat half that force, perhaps, before then he would fall, and what would happen to Jay and Firefly then?

There was only one thing to do. Just before the monsters reached him, he would smack Firefly into a gallop, and then distract the wargs so they could escape. He had to hope they would be able to make it to safety without him.

But he never got the chance because, just as he was reaching for his horse, the leading warg collapsed with a squeal, its orc rider tumbling off as the ugly wolf crashed to the earth. Then there was a soft twang from behind Jay and Firefly, and another warg died—no, two more. The rest scrambled to a halt, whipping their heads around in search of the mysterious attacker.

Twang. Twang. Twang. Another warg and three orcs were dead, but one of the remaining pair of wargs, now riderless, charged past the trio in a sudden burst of movement, planning to tear through the thicket until it found the hidden attacker.

It died at the end of a shortsword, and a man hopped gracefully over its body, wiping his bloody sword on its thick fur. Alahn saw a glimmer of green under the hood of the stranger's green and brown cloak.

The three orcs and single warg that were left found that they no longer liked the odds, and they wisely ran for their lives, but they were too slow—the stranger took his longbow off his back, notched two arrows, and sent them into the air, followed closely by another pair, and then turned to Alahn without waiting to see if his shots landed (which all four of them did). "Hello."

"Greetings, good traveler..." Alahn started, but the stranger was no longer looking at him; his eyes, which Alahn could barely see under the shadow from his hood, were on Jay, who was staring back at him with surprising intensity. The stranger went into a series of complex hand movements, ending with a questioning tilt of his head, and to Alahn's utter astonishment, Jay responded in kind!

The stranger nodded and faced Alahn again. "I visit Rivendell every so often," he explained.

Alahn fought back his shock enough to ask, "Are you one of the rangers of these lands, then?"

The stranger laughed softly and reached up to remove his hood. "No."

Alahn gaped, and then had to hold back a snort. The stranger was not a human; he was the strangest-looking elf Alahn had ever seen! Not that that was saying much.

The stranger cracked a grin at Alahn's attempt to keep a neutral expression. "What? Never seen an elf with war paint before?"

Alahn forced his mouth into a straight line and shook his head.

"Then you've never been farther east then the Iron Hills," the elf said, reaching up to trace the three curved blue-gray lines that swirled from under his left eye down to the center of his cheek. "It's the norm over there. It's a dye, you know, not a paint. Lasts for weeks."

It wasn't just that, though. The elf's eyes were speckled brown and a bright, bright summery green, and... "And the charcoal?" Alahn had to ask.

"Isn't," the elf sighed, as though he'd had to explain it a thousand times. "That I was born with." He fingered his black-streaked copper hair, which did indeed look like he had smeared it with charcoal. "I have stripes," he concluded with a shrug. "It's a blessing and a curse."

Truly, Alahn tried to keep a straight face, but he burst into laughter. Luckily, the elf had a sense of humor about his odd appearance and chuckled.

"And what is your name, good elf?" Alahn inquired, more seriously.

"Storm," the elf said with a small bow. "And you?"

"Alahn."

"Of Rohan?"

"Once," the man stated, and Storm did not press further.

"And Jaylan I know, but what is the name of this fine beast?" Storm asked, stepping gracefully over to Alahn's horse. The stallion sniffed him and nickered.

Alahn liked this elf. "His name is Firefly, and he is a noble companion indeed."

"He looks it," the strange elf agreed. "Now, let's find a camping site upwind of these pleasant corpses here." He prodded the closest warg's limp tail with his boot. "May I join you for the night?" he asked both Alahn and Jay, signing to the little elf as he did so.

Jay responded with a sign, and Storm turned to Alahn for confirmation.

"I would not turn away one who so bravely saved our lives," the human assured him.

"It was nothing, but thank you," the elf told him humbly. "Oh, and I have some venison left over from my meal yesterday, if you're interested."

Alahn's mouth watered, and it was several moments before he realized the elf had said his meal yesterday.

What a strange elf.

For Storm's backstory, see my other Lord of the Rings story, Skyfire. Or you could get to know him through this story, but the first option is preferred because it'll make you read another one of my stories :P