"They're guarding the eastern pass." Calanon whispered to Brogach, his still form and Elven clothing keeping him hidden among the brush. One hand was placed just below his jawline, bending a branch lightly as he peered down the forested slope. Below, various brutish humanoids were mingling in some form. Their sloping jaws, primitive features, and coarse fur were all too familiar to Calanon the Ranger. 
Orcs. 

It looked to be some kind of small feast. There couldn't be much more than a score of them, grunting to each other in their native tongue within the general area of a large bonfire beneath the tree canopy. Calanon had thought once he and his friend had gotten over that last rise they would have had an easy run to the plains that led to the next town. Luck was not on their side this day, he supposed. 

Any attempt to go around would lead to them spotting him, even as concealed and agile as he and Brogach were. But he had dealt with Orcs before. If you needed to get passed them and not be given chase, it was best to confuse the brutes. He whispered to his truest friend in Elvish, and then strung his bow as quietly and quickly as he could. The two had performed such a maneuver before. Brogach disappeared into the forest to play his part. 

With his powerful legs and agility, Calanon leaped up and hauled himself upon the lowest branch of the Oak he had been hiding near. He then traversed his way across the tree canopy, knowing that he couldn't rightly pass by the camp itself without risking being spotted from his shadow on the ground, or an unlucky gaze upwards. Once he was in position, he saw Brogach was as well. Calanon whistled like a bird. 

The Elk bounded into the sight of the Orcs, rustling the bushes and causing the camp to look his way. "Oh, a tasty treat to add to the dinner, eh?" one of them said in broken common. Others grunted in agreement. The Elf let his arrow fly, hitting an Orc at the back of the camp in the leg with an arrow. The creature howled and clutched his ruined limb, falling over and writhing. The camp then turned his way, confused and yelling. 

Calanon shot another, hitting another Orc in the shoulder, causing it to fall over with a roar of pain. The Orcs began to look every which way, and Calanon loosed an arrow back, from whence he had come to rustle the bushes back that way. The Orcs began to give chase at the supposed source, focused now on a new direction and quite bewildered at all that was transpiring now. Calanon Aenarion used this moment to dash from tree limb to tree limb in great leaps and catches, before shimmying down a tree the farthest edge of camp while their attentions were elsewhere and mounting Brogach, galloping out of the forest and making it to open ground. 

The wind now whipping his thick, dark hair and youthful face. "That was a close one." he said, rubbing Brogach's head and making the last few miles across the plains before they saw the town in the distance after the next rise. Behind it were small but beautifully forested mountains, and a mountain pass that lead further north into the colder tundra. The woundrous sight of nature left a lopsided smile on his face. Brogach and his Elven rider made it safely across the small bridge that led to the front gate of the town, his hoofs clomping over the wood before the entered the settlement proper.