He heard her hiss. It was a pervasive little sound picked up by ears unimaginably skilled, but they gave no sign of his knowledge beyond the natural twitch as he became alert to the dangers of the woods. He was a skilled huntsmen, a soldier, and the elven-fair. His control was admirable, focused, and unmoving for the three heartbeats it took for him to decide his move. His eyes flicked to Huan who had turned his attention to the boughs of the trees, giving him knowledge of his stalker, then he turned with all the swiftness of an Elf, drawing his dagger in one motion and leasing it from his hand.
He shouted a cry in Quenya, bounded back several steps to put space between himself and the other and drew his blade. But his grey eyes turned upward and upward as they fell upon the most unusual sight. He was the tallest of the Noldor, won out only by Thingol of the Sindar, and so he was not accustomed to looking up at creatures.
His ears tipped in a display of the most unusual show of emotion, but it was not fear. He'd faced Morgoth and a thousand tortures for more than thirty years, and so new evils did not make his spirit quail. And yet! And yet..
"Hold!" he told Huan, who had poised himself for an attack.