Word Count: 100
Characters/Work: Silmarillion, Amras
Adult Content/Pairing: None
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, I don't profit from it in any way except for the massaging of my flagging ego.
Author Notes: Seven deadly sins, and seven Feanorion brothers. How convenient. *g* I wrote this sitting on the bus on the way to work and it came out at exactly 100 words on the first draft.
Only four of us remained alive after the Nirnaeth, though Maitimo was badly hurt and for a while we thought we might lose him too. We fled deep into the forests of Ossiriand, and we dared not rest, lest the dark forces of Angband tracked us down.
For days, weeks, we went hungry. Then we chanced upon a herd of deer startled into flight by our passage. Pitya and I drew our bows, arrows flew, and a stag fell.
It was a feast we had that day, roast venison in our bellies, and for a little while, all was well.