A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi - A precipice in front, wolves behind.
The larger, female wolf continued a low, consistent growl which pierced through the crackling of the campfire like a needle through cloth. Her growl suddenly increased in volume, becoming a short, sharp bark as it lunged backwards, back into the shaddows, followed with the quiet thwak, thwak, thwak of arrow hitting the floor by the Templar's feet, each one closer to it's mark than the other, but never actually hitting them.
Meyri fixed a cheap, scrappy leather flask of water to her arrow and aimed above the fire. The heavy load of the arrow made it fly off-balance, so instead of putting out the campfire the water stroked the hot logs and scorching flames, hissed, and sent bright white steam billowing into the sky.
The dancing flames of the fire allow Korin to catch a glimpse of the cameoflagued figure up in the trees, arrow pointed straight at his heart. Her eyes are narrowed but...
It looks like a girl? A young one, too. And it's aiming for those below her with a cold stare.