The sun shone down on the wide plain of grass that spread out in front of her at the forest’s edge. Wind tousled the long blades, and if it weren’t for the burning stench that assaulted her nose, the dead silence might have been peaceful. She had been too late to do anything but bury or burn the dead, yet she searched in vain for any survivors, discovering final hiding places, last stands, and cruel reminders of the Enemy’s merciless slaughter. Cruel iron weapons were scattered about, but the number of men, women, and children far outweighed the number of orc bodies. The crops had been carelessly cut down and the fields burned of what remained, which would leave the land barren for years to come. 

It had been the third village that month, but it was no less disheartening to pick up the pieces. What use was it for her to patrol if she would be a step behind the Enemy at every turn? She was meant to continue to the north, but the vast swath of trampled grass led west. In an uncharacteristic decision of defiance, she turned her course to pursue them, hoping she might at least thin their numbers, and at best, prevent the same tragedy from befalling other simple folk.

................................................

She had risen at dawn. Better to try to avoid the stifling heat of the mid-day by doing her daily chores before it could rise. As Idhrenes squatted near her bedroll Saelind watched her amiably for a moment, ears twitching and tail swishing lazily, but soon went back to grazing near the bank of the stream. Slowly and methodically, Idrenes whittled birch wood arrow shafts and fletchings with a small knife, glancing up at regular intervals to observe the small cove she had made camp in.

When she felt she had done enough, she practiced her balance on a single rock in the middle of the stream as she leisurely stretched her limbs, taking time to truly feel them move, for all of the gentle ache it caused, as she breathed.  She had much to think over, much to decide. If she moved any further north, she would be beyond the promise of staying within a day’s ride. But if she did not, she would not know what had become of her kin.

Saelind seemed to read her thoughts and snorted softly.

“Yes, I know. It is not so easy,” she said as if the mare would understand.

The mare flicked her ears indifferently, prompting a soft chuckle from her mistress. She pushed herself up and strung her bow, then pulled it taut as she pretended to aim and let the string go, hitting an invisible target.

“Nothing ever is,” Idrenes murmured to herself with a sigh.