He could not move.
He could see themEowyn, a splash of scarlet velvet, backing
away; the dark wolf, head lowered, jaws dripping, padding towards
But he could not move.
The wolf was feigning indifferencemaking Eowyn think
that, if only she moved slowly enough, it would ignore her
Legolas was not fooled. He willed his legs to move, his hands
to raise his bow.
But his limbs were leaden.
He awoke with a cry.
Eowyns shift was stained with blood.
It is my monthly flow, my love, she whispered, that
He hugged her close, weeping.