Barafo dashed back down the gentle slope, leaving the Uruks body for the carrion birds that would soon descend on the site. He paced himself, breathing steadily, as he made his way back to the copse of tree's some hundred yards or so from the hill behind; with the occasional jolts of pain from his injuries spurring him on.

He reached the first set of tree's within a few heart-wrenching moments, but even this amount of time did not favour him. He had barely entered his small camp-site, when he heard a brazen horn sounding in the distance from the way he had come. Instinctively, he crouched down, staying low, whilst shielding himself amidst the fallen logs and branches he had used too create his fire the night before.

Between the logs and fallen wood, he cautiously peered back towards the small hill on the plain, the black speck of the fallen Uruk-Hai clearly visible even from this distance.
Before long, the horn bearers identity became clear, proving Barafo's fears from the moment he had heard the cruel, piercing sound.

A Warg Rider strolled upto the Hill, both the creature and the rider gazing around, alerted and on edge to a possible threat. Barafo watched, his heart punding, as two more riders came up to join the first.
The rider was now dismounting, before kneeling over the Uruk, obviously inspecting it with some degree of suspicion. The Orc then proceeded too point around in a wide arc with its clawed hand, barking some feral command at his companions.

Barafo cursed as he saw the other wargs begin bearing there riders down the hill towards him, there snouts nuzzled in the soft grass; no doubt pin-pointing the source of his 'scent', he thought bitterly. Sensing his peril, Barafo quickly looked around for his travel-pack, finding it where he had left it, nuzzled between two rotten stumps on the edge of his camp. He knew he needed it if he any hope of survival, but too reach for it would mean being spotted and - more than likely- being chased down and eaten alive. Without being afforded the luxury for a mental debate on the issue, he came too a rather quick decision. Leaping forward from his position, he began too sprint, his loose hands snatching at the pack he so desperately needed.

Even as he made his way out of the copse of tree's, the baying calls of the Wargs sounded behind him; there masters jeering voices pushing them onward.

The chase was on.