A loud whirring sound dashed by Wolflang’s ear causing him to startle awake, lose his balance and fall off his horse. As he fell he rolled amongst the long grass. Grasping his bow and collecting an arrow from the leather quiver as he rolled, Wolflang made it back onto his feet with bow and arrow in hand, poised and ready to shoot. This manoeuvre was one that his father had taught him when he first started to learn the fine art. “Sometimes ya enemy will take ya by surprise,” Bargran would say, “so roll to the ground, collect ya gear and be ready to shoot him in the neck as soon as ya stand up.” Of course that was concerning wild animals but Wolflang had practiced it so much that he now did the manoeuvre with instinct. Wolflang had no idea what had flown passed his ear but he wasn’t about to take any chances.
By this time Afeclin had ridden back to assess the situation.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked sliding down off his horse.
‘Take cover, I’m not sure what’s out there.’
Just as Wolflang spoke another whirring sound buzzed past his ear.
‘We’re being shot at!’ called Wolflang turning around to the direction the arrow had come flying at him. ‘I can’t see anyone though and I can’t tell exactly where it came from.’
Wolflang studied the line of trees opposite him with caution. The forest was thick on either side of the path, for the most part comprising large bankoi trees with their strong trunks and feathered leaves of greens, reds and golds. Bankoi trees were said to be amongst the oldest known on Titania. They were not the tallest of trees but their bodies were thick and mighty with root systems that went deep into the ground. Standing beside the bankoi, the slender white traffita trees looked waif like and weak.
X-zaivacress vines wound their way around the traffita and bankoi, filling in the empty spaces between the trees like a patterned scarf with their rich green leaves and large deep violet flowers at the end of each arm.
Hiding in amongst the branches and vines was not a hard task. The elves had always used the security of the trees in Taybie Woods to gain advantage against enemies and intruders. From the concealed branches of the bankoi the elves were difficult to discern, let alone hit.
Afeclin was now squatting low in the long grass with his horse standing next to him protecting him on the side the arrows appeared to be coming.
‘How could you tell it was an arrow?’
‘I caught just a glimpse of it that time,’ Wolflang answered with slow breaths, concentrating on the woods all around him.
After a few minutes another arrow came at him from behind, this time plunging into the dirt, a foot away from him.
‘There must be more than one out there,’ Wolflang suggested in a loud whisper. ‘The arrows are coming from a few directions.’
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