"Able to shapeshift at will?" Radagast gasped, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. "I have heard of no such sorcery in this age, certainly not with such fluidity. Are you certain, Gandalf?"
The Grey Wizard nodded grimly.
Radagast scratched his messy beard. "I shall test the creature's spirit."
"Proceed," Gandalf replied.
Radagast, who was entirely incapable of subtlety or acting, walked toward Bilbo with an exaggerated "natural" stride. "A fine bird you have there, Master Hobbit," he said, peering at Keith.
Bilbo, unfamiliar with the eccentric Brown Wizard, nodded politely but kept his distance.
"I have a great fondness for the small things of the world," Radagast added, reaching out a hand to stroke Keith's feathers while simultaneously channeling a pulse of magic to probe the bird's essence.
Keith saw the move coming a mile away. He didn't like being poked. He fixed Radagast with a sharp, predatory glare and flapped his wings aggressively, snapping his beak at the Wizard's fingers.
Radagast jumped back, nearly tripping over his own robes. He scurried back to Gandalf, his face pale as he whispered urgently, "That is no bird, Gandalf. I cannot say what hides beneath the feathers, but its spirit is ancient and terrifyingly powerful!"
Gandalf had expected as much. He took a long pull from his pipe, about to speak, when the air was shattered.
Awoooo—!
Two bone-chilling howls echoed from the nearby ridges.
"Wargs!" Gandalf barked, no longer caring about the mystery of the bird. He surged toward the Company. "We must move! Now!"
In the chaos, Gandalf noticed that the Raven on Bilbo's shoulder had vanished. What game is it playing now? the thought flickered through his mind, but it was quickly eclipsed by a more immediate threat.
A massive, muscular Warg appeared on the high rocks to their flank. Seconds later, another leapt from the brush, charging straight for the Dwarves.
Keith hadn't gone far. He was perched in a nearby pine, watching the first scout-Warg descend. He memorized the muscular gait, the matted fur, and the scent of the beast. Satisfied, he flew ahead toward the golden hills—the direction Gandalf was leading the Company.
He landed in a rocky outcrop and closed his eyes.
Shapeshift.
The feathers dissolved into coarse grey fur; the beak elongated into a maw of serrated teeth.
Awoooo—!
Keith let out a celebratory howl that shook the valley. He ignored the distant pack of Orc-scouts and waited for the Company to emerge from the treeline.
He didn't have to wait long.
Radagast burst from the forest first, his rabbit-sled a blur of brown fur and wooden runners, successfully drawing the attention of the main Orc pack. The dim-witted Orcs, seeing a "easy" target, roared and gave chase.
Shortly after, the Company emerged. Having lost their ponies in the initial ambush, they were now on foot, fleeing with the desperate, heavy-footed pace of Dwarves in a hurry.
"Follow me! Keep up!" Gandalf shouted from the lead.
Keith, in his Warg-form, let out a toothy grin and began his sprint.
"Orcs! We've been spotted!" Gandalf's heart sank as he saw the lone Warg charging toward them. "To the rocks! Hide!"
Keith was fast. He reached the flank of the Company in seconds, then slowed his pace just enough to linger. He watched the thirteen Dwarves and the Hobbit gasping for air, their faces masks of sheer terror.
He followed them for several seconds, nipping at their heels and then darting away just as they turned to fight. It was intoxicatingly fun. When the group finally dove behind a pile of jagged boulders, Keith pretended not to see them and circled around the far side.
"I... I think it lost us," Thorin panted, peeking over the stone. He saw no sign of the Warg and let out a ragged sigh of relief.
Gandalf peered out as well, his brow furrowed. That beast saw us clearly. Why did it turn away? The thought of the missing Raven returned.
Suddenly, Keith burst over the top of the rocks, snarling directly into their faces.
"Kili!" Thorin screamed.
The young archer didn't hesitate, drawing his bow and loosing an arrow. Keith wasn't a mindless beast; he saw the string release and dodged to the side with a fluid, draconic grace.
Kili loosed another. Keith dodged again. Jump left, snap right—this is better than any game!
After a few more "near misses," Keith turned and trotted away into the brush. The Dwarves stood frozen, unable to comprehend why a Warg would simply leave. Gandalf, however, let out a small, knowing chuckle.
He was certain now. That "Warg" was the Raven. It isn't trying to kill us, Gandalf realized. It's playing with us.
"We cannot stay here," the Wizard commanded. "Move!"
They resumed their flight. A few minutes later, Keith reappeared behind them.
"It's back! The same one!" a Dwarf cried.
"Kili! Give it another arrow!" Thorin roared.
Keith dodged a few more shots and then pulled back. Thorin, running alongside Gandalf, shouted through his labored breathing, "Gandalf, what is this devilry? What is that beast doing?"
"Don't worry about the Warg! Just run!" Gandalf pointed toward a hidden cleft in the rocks—the entrance to the Elven realm.
"We have no horses!" another Dwarf wheezed. "We can't outrun them forever!"
Gandalf didn't answer. He just kept running.
Keith had had enough of the "teasing" for now. He leapt onto a massive flat rock and tilted his head back, letting out a long, piercing howl that carried across the entire valley.
Awoooo—!
The main Orc pack, which had been chasing Radagast's rabbits, stopped dead. They turned their heads toward Keith's signal.
"We've been tricked! The Dwarves are over there! Kill them!" the Orc leader bellowed.
Dozens of Orcs on Warg-back turned as one and began a thundering charge toward the Company's position.
Gandalf looked back at the lone Warg on the rock, his eyes narrowing. Strange. He saves us, then he calls the pack? What is his endgame? But there was no time for philosophy. "The Orcs are coming! Move! Move!"
Dwarves are many things, but "agile" is not one of them. The sprint was becoming a torture.
"Where are you taking us?" Thorin demanded, his hand on his sword. He looked ready to turn and die in a final stand.
"To sanctuary!" Gandalf replied. "Move!"
But four legs are faster than two. Within minutes, the Orc pack had circled around, their numbers growing as they formed a closing ring of steel and fur around the Company.
Keith, still in his Warg form, sat on the ridge, watching the trap close.
Awoooo—!
Keith let out one final howl. The hunting season was over; the confrontation was about to begin.