The One Hour Fellowship Writing Challenge
As the Crow Flies by Lothithil
Crow sat on his branch,
shivering in the east wind. He was bored. There was nothing in this
barren land to see, and nothing
dead to eat for miles! 'It is too cold for an old carrion-crow, in the
of winter and no insects to snack on...' he fluffed his plummage and
'It wasn't as if Sharku had to sit out here all
alone and freeze, waiting for *caw!* -know-who to wander by.' Crow
guard duty. At least in Orthanc he had the company of his peers, and
wealth of a great crowd of orcs spilling lovely gobbets of offal...
Crow sighed, shivering again, but this time in
remembered bliss. He had once flown to Sharku's own balcony, and the
one had placed a scrap of fresh flesh in his own beak. What kindness!
generosity! Only for that great wizard would Crow suffer this tedious
for the chance that he might, just maybe, be able to fly back with
and taste that ecstacy again...
Movement toward the west... looks like ants at
this distance. Crow shoved away thoughts of food that plagued him, and
to wing, soaring high above the hills where the holly trees still grew.
As he glided closer, his sharp eyes could make out ten figures walking
Crow became so excited he nearly fell from the
sky. He wheeled and flew south with all his furious strength. What
meat would Sharku give him for this!
If he could have, he would have sang as he flew.