The sun descended slowly under the rocky line of the western edge of the crevasse if judging by the amount of effort she spent limping through the horribly rocky, crumbling and hard to walk terrain but way too fast judging by her progress. She felt like roaring in pain and frustration and giving up a few times when the slope looked promising and she added more bruises trying to climb it only for some solid looking rock on the superior edge to break under her weight sending her back to the bottom of the crevasses alongside several rocks injuring her further in their fall.
Turuviel felt spent and hid under the shade of some bushes that had grown, improbable and strong in the very rock of the slope. Even in full light she would have been invisible to even keen eyes, only the smell of flesh and blood and sweat was there to betray her if some wargs or even orcs would come near enough, for the yirch had as keen sense of smells as their beasts and, as with many other senses and strengths, equal to that of the Eldar. There was not much more she could do about it anyway.
The water bottle was empty for a while now. She carefully pulled a branch and crushed a couple of leafs between her fingers. They did not smell poisonous so she tasted the crushed paste, a lot more dry than she thought it would be. The taste was unpleasant, bitter and oily. She decided that she was not desperate enough to try them further but she carefully filled the water bottle with leafs, just in case. Even such poor bushed were rare in this parts. She slept a thin sleep, aware of the slightest noise, and probably not longer than an hour or two and then she carefully went out of her hiding.
The moon was up, white and huge, offering plenty of light. She was thirsty and her body felt painful is so many places, but after a few steps and a sharp turn of the crevasse she felt that her luck was changing: the wall on the western side was changing into a series of terraces, almost like the steps of a stairway made for giants feet. She remembered the maps she saw countless times. This must have been the road towards the main enemy camp, the Steps of Gram. She would have preferred to see such an accessible way towards the east, towards Tol Ascaren, but she was not about to hesitate between following the crevasse for more hours and any other road. A forward Elf outpost camp should be near these parts, by going south, but for a first she had to get out of the crevasse, so she started climbing, giant step by giant step, forgetting pain, thirst and hunger.
