The Wisest warg
DISCLAIMER: Let's get this out of the way. I do not own or have any hope of ever owning the characters or happenings of middle earth. They belong to Tolkien and as far as I'm concerned he can keep them. For now. I do however, own my OCs, specifically Lou Ann! So don't steal her. Please, feel free to leave any comments and/or questions that you may have. Follow the story in which ever way you would like, but make your thoughts known but be polite while you do it. Thank you!
The Wisest Warg
"Midautras vras" Petting the matted fur of his steed, Azog rumbles from his loyal warg's back before urging her forward with a shout "Ya!"
'Here we go again.' One of her companions gripes from under a sickeningly green and scaly rider 'Every day is a good day to kill with this one.'
'Hush up now, Betty Mae, and run.' she eyes her longtime friend with a dry look only marred by her teeth that are slightly too large for her mouth. A good trait for a warg 'Maybe today will be different.'
The hope is a desperate one, as the wargs can already smell the stench of their target. If giant mutitated wolf creatures could sigh, Lou Ann would have done so. Adjusting her spine to better accommodate the impressive weigh of the massive pale orc on her back, the white warg darts forward as commanded. Although immensely strong and intelligent, Azog, stubborn thing that he is, can't be described as the most original artist in the genocidal practice. Especially when they prey is-
"Shakutarbik!" one of the goblins shouts, deftly alerting the target of their approach. The idiot is quickly eaten by Jeffery.
'It's always dwarves.' The matriarch that leads the wargs of guntabad shake her massive head as she runs I apologize Ladies.
'It's not your fault, Lou Ann.' the spotted warg to her left comforts. It's her first run since she birthed her litter and Lou Ann is impressed that she can run with all that baby fat hanging from her. She makes it look great though 'My Larbul gets like this sometimes aswell when he is in heat.'
'Mimi is right. Your rider will calm his blood soon enough.' flicking her ears at an angle, the matriarch listens to her friend 'Once he finds someone to mount he'll be fine. I just wish he wasn't so rough. They'd last longer.'
'You girls are probably right. Thank you Mimi. Betty Mae.' Upon reaching the top of the hill, the snow white warg flexes her paws into the dirt for a moment, knowing her master enjoys taking his time with a chase 'It's just that it's always the same lately; we never even sit by the fire of a freshly burned village anymore. All he wants to do is chase dwarves.'
'And end their lives.' Mimi offers helpfully
'Violently.' Betty Mae adds as the dwarves climb the trees
"Sho gad adol!"
'You heard him boys.' Lou Ann calls to the rider less males in her troop 'Go have a bloody drink.'
While she may be unable to sigh, the beast is capable of letting out a huff of boredom as she shifts under her rider. Watching the dwarves in trees is not what she would call a fun evening. Quite the opposite in fact. Regardless, Lou Ann does her best to remain still lest her jostling cause the orc's clawed hand to cut into her skin. It has not happened in many moons but her milky counterpart can be a tad bit wild when it comes to his precious dwarves.
'I am so tired of dwarves.'
"Hoshat, Dagri." her low growls have earned her a scolding from her master, much to her displeasure
'Yes, Daaagri.' a dung colored warg snickers in a sing song voice from beside her. She wasn't even invited on this run 'Be silent.'
'I swear I will bite your snout off if you don't stop calling me that, Bessica.' the brown warg whines in a mock apology before shuffling away 'Something is seriously wrong with that girl.'
'She knows calling you by that name will get under your pelt, Lou Ann.' Betty Mae huffs out, watching Bessica return to the back of the pack 'Just ignore her.'
As if Lou Ann's name could be anything other than Lou Ann. Her master gave her the awful notname (the name their orcs call their wargs) of 'Dagri' when he was young and couldn't tell his fingers from his toes or apparently a warg from a goat. Hence how she, a beautiful example of the strength a warg posseses, ended up with the name 'Goat'. It makes her feel slightly better that none of her friends were notnamed very well either. Betty Mae was dubbed Dhaub and poor Mimi is continuously called Katala. Everyone agrees that Bessica's notname of 'Bagal' fits perfectly. They all just accept that their orcs will never get their names correct. The males chitter in amusement at the use of her notname before catching fire from her glare. Or the pinecones. But probably her glare. Her orc's legs tighten around her sides and she knows that his mate has arrived.
'He's here.' she announces to her groupmates
'Him again?" Mimi whines, working her jaw 'Are you sure they are mates, Lou Ann?'
'Oh come now, Mimi!' she admonishes lightly 'Just look at the dwarf's eyes, ablaze-'
'That could just be the blaze…' Betty Mae interrupts rudely
'It's the fire of their passion!' Lifting her snout, Lou Ann breathes deeply 'You can smell it in the very air.'
"Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast."
'Yes the scent of fear- wait, no!' her orc is clearly not thinking 'Love!'
'I don't know Lou Ann.' Betty Mae skeptically watches the scene 'If it's love, why did his father smell of it too?'
'Maybe it's a love triangle! First the father now the son. A tragic love story to be sure.'
'There you go, Mimi. Now we're talking!' A nudge at her side causes the warg's training to kick in and she steps forward immediately 'Someone is eager to greet his partner. I'll talk to you gals later.'
As they approach, Lou Ann readies herself for the game. It's always the same. Prey attacks her master. Her master attacks her prey. Prey is eaten. Like clockwork, the dwarf charges and is beaten down by her orc's mace. The fact that he remains conscious after taking a blow to the face from her master reinforces the idea that it was probably a love tap. Moving on to phase three, the matriarch opens her jaws to test the dwarf's worthiness to lay beneath her master. Giving him a little nibble she makes a decision.
'Slim hips but a broad back.' she growls from around the dwarf in her mouth 'Yes, you will do nicely.'
He accepts her judgement by laying his body onto a rock, open and ready for mating. The warg's cold dead eyes warm at the sight and she could do a little dance from happiness. Maybe if her master finally pins the dwarf down, she will be able to have a different day tomorrow. No blood and guts in her pelt. No ear piecing screams to damage her delicate ears. Wouldn't that be lovely? Plenty of her fellow wargs are still under the absurd impression that these two males are enemies. Fools. Every time they meet, the two run into each other's arms. Not to mention that an orc as powerful as hers doesn't chase a single dwarf for 142 years just to mount his head instead of his arse. Although her master's backside is well formed (after years of him sitting on her back, she can tell) the orc is more of a giver than a taker. The two clearly feel strongly about each other as seen by the trust the dwarf exhibits by going so far as to lay himself on the ground for further ravishing. Today is finally the day that-
~CAW! CAW! Dwarf pick up service, at your service~
'What the hell!? NO! No you bird brain!' Lou Ann roars as the eagles swoop down and pluck up her orc's soon to be lover 'Put him down this instant!'
~No return, exchange only.~
'Then take Bessica instead!'
'Hey!' said warg gasps in horror
~You want it, I'm on it!~
Of course this leads to the eagles picking up random wargs in an attempt to catch the elusive Bessica. Running away is the only thing she's good at. With each wrong catch, they throw the mistaken warg off the cliff to avoid further confusion. By the time they find her, the dwarf is long gone. If the eagles hadn't ruined everything, she is sure that the two would have finally become one.
~Fly away! CAW! CAW!~
'Stupid eagles!' the white warg howls into the night, rubbing her head against her master's shoulder 'I am so sorry about all this.'
"Ashdautas vrasubatlat." Her orc promises, romantically glaring after his stolen love
With a low whine, the warg allows her rider to take his place and begin the hunt. AGAIN.
Midautras vras- It's a good day to kill
Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast.- Do you smell it? The scent of ear.
Ganzilig-I unarug obod nauzdanish.- I remember your father reeked of it.
Sho gad adol- Drink their blood
Ashdautas vrasubatlat- Some day I will kill you
I wrote this little diddy in class. I had waytoo much fun writing it. Hope you had just as much fun reading it.