Liora's keen senses picked up the scent almost immediately. It was a metallic, rancid stench—the unmistakable scent of orc blood. She wrinkled her snout, her lip curling in disgust as her tail flicked with irritation. The bushes around her were stained with crimson, and her instincts screamed that something was amiss. She pushed forward through the foliage, her sharp claws digging into the dirt as she moved silently, careful to stay hidden.

Then, she heard it—a rustling sound in the bushes behind her. Her muscles tensed, and with a quick flick of her tail, she hissed in warning, hoping to scare off whatever was there. But it wasn't enough.

Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through her leg as an arrow shot out of the shadows, embedding itself deep into her flesh. Her eyes flashed with anger, and a low growl rumbled in her chest. The poison laced within the arrow was already spreading, but her fury outweighed the pain. The orcs had dared to attack her.

From the bushes nearby, three orcs emerged, their grotesque faces twisted into snarls. Their skin was scarred, their teeth rotten and yellow. The weapons in their hands were crude and jagged—axes, spears, and swords that looked like they'd been forged with no care for precision. They circled around Liora, their eyes gleaming with malice.

Not far off, Anakin heard the commotion. His heart raced as he fumbled for his weapon, drawing his lightsaber. "Obi-Wan, come in," he muttered into his comms.

Obi-Wan's voice crackled back through the comm link. "What? What is it?"

"It's Liora," Anakin's voice was urgent, his breath heavy with worry. "She's been hurt."

Without another word, Obi-Wan and Anakin rushed through the bushes, their footsteps swift and determined. They met halfway, both of them pushing through the thick undergrowth until they saw the scene unfolding before them.

Liora was surrounded by the orcs, her muscles straining as she bared her teeth at them. The poison from the arrow slowed her movements, but the anger in her eyes burned fiercely. She snapped at the nearest orc, her jaws clicking in a vicious warning. But the orcs were undeterred—they were closing in, ready to strike again.

"Oh no," Obi-Wan murmured under his breath, his heart tightening with concern. Without hesitation, he ignited his lightsaber, the blue blade humming to life. He motioned for Anakin to follow his lead, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.

Anakin immediately charged forward, his own saber igniting with a snap-hiss. "Stay back, Liora!" he shouted as he swept into the fray.

The orcs hissed and snarled as they turned to face the Jedi, their eyes filled with hatred. They were crude fighters, but their numbers were overwhelming, and their savage nature made them dangerous. Liora, though injured, was still a force to be reckoned with, her powerful body ready to fight.

Obi-Wan and Anakin moved in unison, slicing through the orcs with precise strikes. The sound of lightsabers clashing with the orc weapons echoed through the clearing, each strike cutting down their enemies with fluid grace. Liora fought alongside them, her claws swiping through the air and her jaws snapping at any orc that dared come too close. Despite the poison coursing through her, she was an unstoppable force, her raptor form moving with lethal agility.

One of the orcs lunged at Anakin, swinging a jagged sword at him, but he parried with ease, deflecting the blow and countering with a swift strike that cleaved through the orc's chest. Obi-Wan was just as efficient, blocking an incoming spear with his saber and quickly dispatching the orc wielding it with a precise cut to the side.

As the last orc fell, Liora let out a triumphant hiss, her body heaving with exertion. Her leg burned from the poison, but her fierce resolve kept her standing. Obi-Wan moved toward her, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low but urgent as he examined the arrow lodged in her leg.

Liora gave a strained growl, her eyes flicking between the two Jedi. Her body language made it clear that she wasn't used to being helped, but she allowed Obi-Wan to kneel beside her and inspect the wound. Anakin, standing a few paces away, kept watch, his lightsaber still ignited in case any more threats emerged.

"It's poisoned," Obi-Wan said quietly, his voice filled with concern. "We need to get it out before it spreads further."

Anakin's brow furrowed as he glanced around the area, his lightsaber still humming in his hand. "Can you handle it, Master?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I can. But we'll need to move quickly."

Liora huffed, her tail twitching restlessly, but she didn't protest. Her gaze was filled with a quiet strength—this wasn't over. She would fight through the pain.

The Jedi quickly worked together to extract the arrow and administer the antidote they had brought with them. As the poison slowly began to recede, Liora's breathing steadied, though she remained alert, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any further threats. The orcs might have been dealt with, but she knew better than to let her guard down.

"Let's move," Obi-Wan said, his tone sharp. "There's no telling what else could be out there."

SCENEBREAK

The atmosphere in the room was tense as Obi-Wan gently placed Liora on his bed, her body still in its raptor form. Her eyes flickered with both pain and exhaustion, but there was an undeniable strength in her gaze. The poison had been purged, but the effects were still lingering, and it was clear that she wasn't out of danger yet. Obi-Wan carefully began tending to her leg, gently wrapping it in cloth to protect the wound.

"You can't stay in your raptor form for now," Obi-Wan said softly, his voice filled with concern. "It's holding the toxins off, but you need to heal, and that requires rest."

Liora let out a low growl, frustration flickering in her amber eyes. Her body was still tense, wary, but the pain in her leg seemed to ease with every minute. She understood Obi-Wan's words, but her form was as much a part of her as her thoughts. She had to maintain control, especially if danger was still nearby.

Anakin paced near the door, his hands fidgeting as he struggled to keep calm. His mind was racing. "Those orcs... they're the ones that killed the seagull," he muttered, the realization sinking in. "We should have known something was off."

Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully, focusing on Liora's injured leg as he adjusted the cloth bandage. "They're not natives," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "I don't know where they came from, but they don't belong here. Their presence is disturbing the natural balance. I don't understand why Queen Jamaica didn't know about them."

"Perhaps they killed a scout near their camp," Anakin suggested, stopping his pacing to sit beside Liora. His gaze was now fixed on the scales that covered her body, studying their iridescent sheen. It was mesmerizing, and he couldn't help but admire the strength they represented.

Liora snarled softly, her sharp claws tapping at the bed's edge in agitation. Her body was tense, but she was determined to communicate. She waved her talons, summoning a tablet from her side, and it floated in front of her. She gave it a gentle nudge with her claws, and it hovered between them.

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged a surprised glance. Obi-Wan was the first to speak. "Would you look at that," he murmured, impressed by her ability to use the tablet so effortlessly. He tied the cloth around her leg, checking the bandages one last time as he noticed the poison had fully dissipated, though she still seemed weakened.

Anakin reached forward and took the tablet from Liora's talons. He studied it carefully, his brow furrowing as he squinted at the crude letters displayed on the screen. He read them aloud: "THE ORCS ARE COMMANDED BY A MAN CALLED SAURON. HE WAS A DANGER TO US ALL FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO. THE DARK LORD IS BACK. LEAVE."

Obi-Wan frowned as Anakin read the words. "What? No... Sauron?" His voice held a trace of disbelief. "That's just... a fairy tale. There's no way—"

Liora shook her head firmly, her expression hardening. She extended her claws toward the tablet and snatched it back, holding it close to her chest. Her voice was strong, unwavering, and she spoke in her native tongue with an intensity that spoke volumes despite the language barrier.

"NO, HE IS NOT," she rumbled, her eyes locked on both Obi-Wan and Anakin. "MY GRANDMOTHER WAS AN ELF SHIFTER. SHE FOUGHT HIM IN THE GREAT WAR OF MIDDLE EARTH. THE PROPHECY IS COMING TRUE."

Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged another look, both struggling to comprehend the gravity of what Liora was saying. Obi-Wan's gaze softened, but he was no less concerned.

"What prophecy?" Anakin asked, his curiosity piqued.

Liora's sharp claws traced the words of the prophecy on the tablet, her gaze fixed on the holographic text as she began to speak the ancient verses aloud:

"When the Dark Lord's shadow rises again,
A blood of the old earth will stand,
By claws of raptor, fierce and true,
The earth shall tremble, skies turn blue.
The One who was lost, the One who remains,
Will rise from ashes, breaking chains.
The elves shall remember, the men shall see,
The prophecy fulfilled, in the last great plea.
From the lands of fire, to the rivers deep,
The darkness will wane, the light will keep.
But beware the false king, whose whispers blind,
For only the purest can break his bind."

Liora huffed with frustration as the words lingered in the air, her sharp eyes never leaving the two Jedi. Anakin frowned deeply, his brow furrowing with confusion and concern.

"We must alert the Jedi Council," he said, his voice filled with urgency. "This isn't just some local threat. If Sauron is real... we need to prepare."

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, his own expression serious. "I agree. If this prophecy is true, it could mean more than just a dangerous adversary. The balance of the Force is delicate right now, and we can't afford to take any chances."

Liora's tail flicked with irritation, but her gaze softened as she gave them both a single, commanding nod. "You must not underestimate him. Sauron's return is not just a matter of power; it's a matter of fate."

She settled back on the bed, her claws tapping rhythmically against the cloth. The danger was far from over.