The young orc and his wolf companion trekked their way through the grassland between himself and the fire. He was fully aware that they were now very vulnerable, and he hated the feel of the open sky on his back, as if it was disclaiming in bright red letters that he was approaching. He didn't like staying out in the open, not unlike how most predators did. The ones that relied on stealth and cunning, anyway. The snake, perhaps? These thoughts were what calmed the youth down. Of small things, things that were important when they were in their place, small bits of facts that he knew by heart. It was better than thinking about his current situation, that was for sure. He was in a foreign land, practically unknown to him, other than the small bits and pieces that he had managed to pick up along his hurried way here. He was also currently headed to what was more than likely to be his death, and knowing this, he was still going. He owed it to them. He owed the tribe his life, after all.<br/><br/>He almost breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the the cover of the trees. He felt more comfortable here, the cool shadow, keeping his away for the eyes of the sun. Here he was in his element, and for some odd reason confidence filled his veins once more. Death still loomed near, but here, he could hold more than his own. Feeling like he was coming closer, the smell of woodsmoke filling his nostrils, he tugged at the the bow that he had on his back, and strung it quickly, his deft fingers working the wood and horse-hair string easily, in a trained fashion. He pulled an arrow from the quiver, also on his back, and tucked the nock into the string, but not pulling back on it yet.<br/><br/>He moved into the view of the fire, expecting to see at least a dozen men, well armed, with several prisoners in tow, tied up somewhere. But, when he came closer he saw... nobody?<br/><br/>Something wasn't right. And, like any smart animal that knew that a trap was being set, he began to back away, but he heard someone approaching.    Curiosity began to take over his need to survive, and he watched as whoever it was that had placed such a fire. He nudged the arrow back an inch, and prepared for the worst.<br/><br/>And suddenly, and elf moved out of the underbrush, and began to 'fix' the fire, removing the green wood, causing most of the smoke, out, and adding dry wood instead. He generally disliked elves as a rule but killing one like this was generally bad to do. He wasn't a back-stabber after all. He remained where he was, studying the scene, waiting for whoever it was that was approaching, obviously not used to the woods, to come back to her fire.