Gaisarix

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“Cousin, wake up!” said Parnard. “I think I did it!”

Danel awakened from her slumber on the grass and sat up. The Wood-elf was leaning over her, green eyes bright with excitement. 

An there we ‘ave it! All our plans come ter naught. Them got Henepa last night, took her from her bed and were away without a sound. Her Elf knife be on the floor, with blood on it. She would have given ‘em a fight if she could. Them happen ter get me brother, Gaisarix, as well, and again. He be caught twice now.

So what ter do?

I be told by the others I must start keepin' a record, as me writin' is the best. That may be so, but Tolbold has a mighty fine hand when he put his mind ter it. He be the boss though, an Assistant Chief Shirriff! So I get the short straw and he get the honour fer thinking of records. 

“There are two types of hunting dogs in this world, Estarfin friend: those who run off and those who do not,” said Parnard.

“If they run away, are they of any use for hunting?”

The elves rode out from the Hall into the lands east, where the woods opened into a broad field and smoke arose above the oak trees, and coming to a halt, they gazed upon thatched roofs and neat, well-tended gardens with orderly fences. They had reached the bounds of the village of the small folk and were reluctant to come closer. Just as they were about to turn their horses and ride away, a voice cried out,