Ulvkil followed his buddy out of the clearing and back into the pines. He was on the look out for large groups of foreigners. He was not goint to allow others to settle in his land. Ulvkil's prt stopped in front of what appeared to be a fallen tree, a resource left over by the last group of settlers.

Upon further insepction, Ulvkil noticed that it was chopped in the middle. The log wasn't huge, but it would be quite heavy for the average person. Ulvkil wasn't average. He lined the chopped log up and picked up the two parts. He crossed the road once more, whistling wrather loudly to call for his snow furred friend, who came sprinting after him. For now, it was back to the village.