Days passed. The Novaana and Otherworlders trained with weapons. Galadriel's previous experiance with the compound bow had not given her the muscles needed for the longbow. Dispite Ezra’s boast about becoming the best fighter, Trav could defeat him four times out of five because of her extra experience.

One morning, Galadriel awoke early. The Black Wolves were coming today. The excellant breakfast turned to ashes in her mouth. She left the hall early in search of the steward who was going to die. She couldn't save him, but maybe she could warn him.

Trav hurried after her. "I hope this works." she said in a muttered voice. "And I hope that this dude isn't going to cause big problems later on." "Come on," Galadriel urged. "We'll just have him write his last will and testiment, that's all. And if he thinks we're wierd...it won't matter for long." Galadriel looked down at her sandals. "What's his name?" "Corlin. We'll look in the kitchens first, and maybe get him to give us a tour of the cellers. That should keep him out of the wolves' way." "We can't keep him from dying, or maybe we'll die!" Galadriel retorted. Trav didn't reply.
"Come on, let's go find Corlin. Is it just me, or does the majority of Kirthanim have names that end with 'n?' Gala mused, adjusting the bow hanging from her side. "Or 'a'," Frodo put in. "Can I come with you guys?" Trav nodded. "Come on." she said. "I'm not sure how long we have.”
A deep howl cut echoed through an open window."Oh." Trav started jogging. "Hurry, guys!" Galadriel nodded. "I don't think any of us are ready to fight a Black Wolf." Frodo followed Trav and Galadriel. "Is this the right thing to do, guys? I mean, we aren't allowed to disrupt the story, are we?" Ciao stopped running. "He's going to die whether we like it or not; disrupting the story can only hurt us, right?"  "So why are we here again?" Galadriel stared at Ciao and Trav. "Did any of us actually come here by choice? I have no clue how I got here." "That's quite a change of topic.... I think we all just... came here." Ciao replied "Well, I find it quite worthy of consideration in our present situation, serving as a mental deterant to our probable demise." Galadriel gulped. "That means, I'm scared to death and trying not to think about it" Trav opened the door to the bustling kitchen and motioned her friends inside. "No time for that now." she said, pointing discreetly at a lanky boy whose shaggy blond hair drapped over the shoulders of his grey tunic."He doesn't play much of a part in the story, so I don’t think we'll do any damage. I think his role was just to show how ruthless the wolves are. Come on."
They jogged over to the blonde boy, ducking a few maids and cooks on the way. As the three girls surrounded him, he looked up from the piece of wood he was whittling. "Oh, hi." he said, in a suprised voice. "Does someone need me? I was about to go out for water."
Trav shook her head. "Are you Corlin?" “Yes.”
"Then don't go out. There are Black Wolves out there!"
"Black Wolves?" he repeated. “During the day?” Galadriel coughed. "Don't worry, I'll go with you."
"You!" Trav and Corlin shouted in unison.
"I have some skill with the bow. Maybe Trav could come too. She's pretty handy with the sword." "You mean going back outside?" Frodo stared at Galadriel. "But then somebody's gonna get kil-, I mean, we should be careful." Galadriel didn't answer. In one swift motion she grabbed a knife off the table next to Corlin, and ran outside, yelling, "Lebo ve Oredruin!" "What in the blue blazes does 'Lebo ve Oredruin' mean?? Come on guys, before she does something crazy and kills herself." Frodo glanced around. “I have to go get a weapon,” She ran out of the room. Trav grunted and pulled Corlin behind her. "Who are you people?" he asked
"Never mind. Just grab something to protect yourself with and stay behind us. Or someone with a weapon anyway." she looked over her shoulder at Ciao. "You girls coming?" Galadriel blinked in the sudden daylight."This is not bad odds. Helm's Deep was bad odds. The Battle of Buruna was bad odds. The battle with the Malakim will be bad odds. This is just one...WOLF!"
A Black Wolf loomed over her, his breath hot on her shoulder. "Um..HELP! TRAV, CIAO, CORLIN, HELP MEEEEEE!" Trav screamed "ARRRGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!," hoping to scare it off. But the wolf’s massive body drew nearer. She raised the heavy kitchen knife.
The wolf lunged, impaling itself on the makeshift blade.
Trav crawled away, shaking. "I hate that, I hate that, I hate that," she muttered. She looked up at Corlin, who was staring in disgusted interest at the dead wolf. "You had better be worth it." she muttered "And I hope I don't get in trouble for this." she held up the knife—or what was left of it. Half the blade was lying in the chest of the wolf. Ezra ran out. "What's up?"
"Trav just killed a wolf, that's what's up." Frodo’s legs shook. "You want to take that one on, Mr. Mighty?"
Ezra shook his head. "Have fun," he smiled, running off into the the distance.
Galadriel stared after him. “What the…” "Brisinger!" Ezra yelled. The wolf burst into flame. Corlin gasped. "Are you a prophet?"
"Nice going, Ezra." Galadriel shot. "At least it won't matter soon."
"Why not?" Corlin stammered. But Galadriel was spared having to explain. From out of nowhere, another wolf sprang on her. She tried to stab it with her kitchen knife, but the handle broke. Galadriel waved her bow in an attempt to fend off the beast, but the wolf's weight broke the wood. The wolf bit her on the shoulder. "AHHHH!" Galadriel fell to the ground, staring at the wolf looming over her.
Corlin sprang before the wolf. It turned from Gala to spring on Corlin, knocking him down.. The last thing Corlin saw was a huge shaggy head bending over him. “Goodbye…” The wolf collapsed onto him, knocked off balance by a blow from Trav. "I swear, where are these things all coming from?" she yelled, reaching down to roll the beast off Corlin. "I thought Malak didn't empty the mountain for years!"
A second wolf appeared from another direction as Trav helped Corlin to his feet. "Would someone kill these things, please!”
Trav backed away, fumbling behind her for the kitchen door. When she reached it, she grabbed Corlin's arm, shoved him through, and fell in after him. “I have no desire to be wolf-chow!” Trav yelled. "I'm getting Aljeron!" Gala lay on the ground, her vision clouded by a dark haze. She could barely see Trav yank Corlin into the kitchen. "Guys...I'm still here..." she moaned. The merciful darkness closed in around her.
Corlin looked around him. "Galadriel! She's still out there!" In an act of great bravery—or great stupidity-- he grabbed another kitchen knife and ran to Galadriel’s aid.. A Black Wolf loomed over the motionless girl. Corlin thrust his knife into the wolf's side, and it collapsed. Corlin pushed the wolf off and tapped Galadriel on the shoulder. "Are you okay?" He didn't hear the padded footfalls behind him. A Black Wolf shook him by the neck. Bones cracked as the wolf flung Corlin to the ground. Trav screamed, but Corlin didn't hear or feel any pain. He had already entered a place of peace in which to await the restoration of all things. Trav screamed at the sight of Corlin's death, but her mind had already caught up to Galadriel's plight. The wolf circled the limp girl, sniffing. Trav glanced around. She couldn’t see Ciao, Ezra, or Frodo anywhere, and Galadriel lay alone in the center of a small courtyard. Well, alone except for that stupid wolf.
Suddenly furious at the creature for wrecking such havoc in such a beautiful place as Sulare, Trav grabbed up a shovel that stood against the wall and charged. Trav’s scream echoed down the halls. Frodo stopped her frantic search for a weapon and ran back to the kitcken. Seeing Galadriel laying unconscious and Trav going after the wolf, she ran up and grabbed Galadriel's shirt, dragging her away as fast as possible Trav swung the shovel against the wolf’s head, creating a ringing sound. “Thick skulled-murders,” she screamed. “Take that!” Ezra was halfway to the training ground when he heard the screams. More wolves? He glanced around for a weapon. His gaze fell on a rusty hoe. This will have to do, he thought, snatching it up. He rounded a corner and froze in shock. There were two wolves in the clearing, a dead body, and Frodo dragging Galadriel towards the kitchen.
Ezra felt a surge of adrenline. He flung the hoe at one of the wolves, lodging it in the beast’s ribs. Trav continued beating the other with her shovel until it collapsed. Ezra looked around for more wolves, and, seeing none, went to help Galadriel. He hoisted her on his shoulder and made his way to the hall Trav gasped with exertion, looking around warily for more wolves. "Are we done?" she demanded. No one answered, so she ran back to the kitchen to wash her hands.
"Orks, goblins, trolls, giant spiders, grawligs, ogers and a dragon." she was muttering to herself "And I still never get used to the nasty job." Nasaua swirled in her stomach, but Trav fought it off. "Dude, where did everybody go?"   “We’ve got to wake her up,” Frodo scanned the room. “Anyone have smelling salts?”Her eyes fell on a large pitcher of water. Rushing over, she grabbed it, and emptied the contents over Galadriel's face. "Galadriel?" she said anxiously. "Are you dead?" Trav walked around a corner, “There you guys are!” She looked nerviously down at Gala.. "Is she okay? I flunked first aid class." "I don't know!" Frodo threw up her hands. "I used to be CPR certified . . but I don't really remember! Do you think I should try?" Galadriel heard voices through the thick haze. She caught her name and the word "dead." Even in her marginally conscesious state, she thought of a humorous reply. "Yes. I wonder...if I'll be...in our world." But the effort was too much and the haze closed in again "She spoke!" Frodo yelled. "What should we do?" She glanced at Trav. "Where's Valzaan? Maybe he could help.” Trav raced out of the kitchen. "Be right back.” eedless to say, Miss-I-no-sense-of-direction got herself lost after three turns. "Hello?" she called into an empty room "Mr. Valzaan, sir?"
Trav darted down another hallway with a large open window at the end. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered, hoisting herself onto the edge and plopping to the ground. "Owh!” Trav winced as she landed hard. “Can’t think about it now…Help!" She ran towards the training ground. "I need to find Valzaan - or someone with medical training of SOME kind!!!" Trav’s nose picked up the stench of dead Black Wolves. She followed the odor to the cluster of Novaana. Most of the men panted wildly, while the younger women were shaking. "Has anyone seen Valzaan?" Trav yelled "Oh, there you are. Um, sir…" Trav swallowed hard, "Uh, Galadriel's passed out in the kitchen, Frodo's splashing her with dishwater, and that Corlin guy is...Uh, well, the, uh, wolves got him. Sorry, we tried to stop it." She pushed back the threatening weight of guilt. He was gonna die anyway. Sarneth, the Great Bear, stopped polishing his staff and turned toward her. Aljerion’s scarred face scowled in confusion, but Valzaan's face bore a hint of amusement. "What happened?" Without waiting for an answer, Valzaan nodded at Joriaem. "Go find Merya and Falin. They might be needed."
Joriaem nodded and took off.
Trav sagged in relief. Someone else—with more experience—was on the job.  “I’ll take you to the kitchens.”
Galadriel drifted in a void of dreams. Images drifted through her head,remembered for less then a second. Meanless words floated in her brain. There was no before or after, only now, filled with a sense of serenity unlike any she had ever known.   Valzaan strode confidently after Trav. "How much bleeding is there?" "The only wound I saw was a bite on her shoulder. It’s not gushing, but it’s not clotting either," Trav replied, turning the corner into the kitchen “Yo, Val, " Ezra called as Valzaan rushed in. Valzaan knelt over Galadriel, ignoring Ezra’s call. Trav glared at Ezra. “What are you, a rap artist?” Ezra grinned. He turned around to see the rest of the Novaana entering the kitchen. Rulalin was staring at Wylla again. "Give it up, dude," Ezra said.
”What?”
"You heard me," Ezra growled.
Valzaan’s brow tightened.”I would appreciate silence, please."
Rulalin grabbed a butcher knife off the counter and held it to Ezra’s throat. “One more word from you, boy…” “More,” Ezra answered cheekily. Rulalin knocked Ezra to the ground. “You’re lucky this time, but I’ll be keeping my eyes on you, understand?” "Trust me." Trav muttered under her breath in Rulalin’s direction. "You and the rest of this world would be so much better off if you'd just grow up and find your own girl.” Just then Joreiam returned with Merya and Falin. He blinked at the sight of two prostate forms on the floor. "What happened?"
Merya didn't wait for a response. Seeing that Ezra was conscious and moving, she bent near Galadriel. "She's breathing, but it's very faint. What exactly happened?" Ezra sat up. “I’m alright,” he turned to Frodo, Ciao and Trav. “That dude has serious anger mangement issues.”