Vosker gave a grunt of affirmation as he stood, dusting his hands-free of the soot of his pipe. "Wife will be done with breakfast soon." Was all the answer the man gave before entering his own home. Gwendolyn got a decent whiff of warming meat and fresh tea. The door, a slab of wood to keep out intruders, with a screen of heavy fur within to keep the warmth inside the small house. Much like Gwendolyn's home all the villagers' homes, with the exception of the smithy or mead hall, were generally a single room with screens of reeds or wicker to create private spaces. The hearth located in the center of the room usually was where the cooking and the household would gather. There were a few larger houses in the village where larger extended families would live, but the extra work of caring for such a place and putting up with the irritation of a disapproving partner's relatives was a bit more than some couples wanted.

Behind the mead hall, an essentially better-built house with a long hearth and rows of tables and stools, Arn would find Dallen nodding in agreement. "Aye, leave it here and no one will bother it." Most likely because Dallen would be using any excuse to keep out of the mead hall until his wife and sister were done fighting. Within the hall, Mira found herself met with a scene of elaborately decorated pillars that held up what appeared to be an upside-down boat that was the roof of the mead hall. A common way of building in the North and true to the tested method of 'if it works'. Frenn, the aging owner of the mead hall, was chipping away at a new cup or bowl he was making by the fire. The only sign of his irritation in his shaking hands and the sharp chips of wood that fed the low fire down the long hearth that commanded the center of the room. Yvenna was looking furious at Ryska and trying to sweep up a pile of rolag wool that was past the point of saving. The once pristine white now decorated with soot, ash, and what smelled like morning waste. Ryska, the large obesse woman, was sitting on a log that had been cut in half to form a bench. Her voice rising in irritation at the young woman.

"And I told you, you should have stored it away! Their boys! What do they know of spinning when it's women who'll do it?" Yvenna's curled lip made her reply, though muttered quite clear that Ryska's words did little to change her mind. "So what? You'd have your son weaving rather than taking a sword or bow and getting some proper reward?!" Ryska's husband had been a lover of the hunter and longed to go raiding on the Southern Kingdoms but his distance from the sea had denied that hope from him. So far his sons all idolized the thought of going raiding and boasted their prowess to any who would challenge them. Nevermind that the blacksmith, who had done just that thing, privately would admit out of Ryska's hearing that her boys would return as bones if they went West to the raiding ships.

The hunter nodded at Dallen. The man’s face held a distant look as if trying desperately for their interaction to distract him from the scene being played out within the hall. Arn could not compare that look to any he had seen in the faces of animals. They would search high and low to select the most perfect place for them. Of course animals would avoid their dens if something deadly had occupied it but to a wild beast, their den was their sanctuary. The hunter turned towards yet another bout of muffle yells.

I guess to him, the two women are vicious animals occupying his den. Arn thought, feeling apologetic to the man.

The second passed, however. Arn was used to being alone and followed his own code that meant he was more at one with nature and being alone than having to deal with the drama of humans. He cleared his throat and got down to business. He undid his makeshift sled and carefully placed his goods just inside the door with the jars full of Walrus blubber on the bottom and the furs stacked on top.

He turned to Dallen and said in a gruff voice. “I will return the morning of the trade day.” As if that explained everything in his mind he did not wait for a reply from the man and headed out.

He planned to staying close to the village. It would not do to stray so far if he wanted to come back in time. He had a particular place in mind. It was a clearing that had many white and yellow flowers. Small animals tended to gather there and the larger ones liked to graze.

If he had known more of herbs and plants he would know that the field was a great place to gather yarrow and nettle. He walked a bit quicker towards the edge of town heading in the direction of the clearing. He had great hearing and would definitely hear any person in trouble from predator that might be heading to the same spot.

Gwendolyn sighed. What on earth had spooked him like that? Something about the two women's argument?

She frowned, heading out of the town and towards the best clearing for yarrow and nettle, all the while pondering. Maybe he was only still thinking about whatever had attacked Lutter. That could have been it. There's still so much about that they didn't understand.

Which might be in the woods...

She stopped at the clearing and glancing around, gripping her knife. No, no way it'd be this close to the village...

Just needed to focus on the nettle and yarrow. Focus on that.

She stooped down to slice off what she needed.

The forest was just beyond the village's open fields for crops or the odd sheep or goat. A few were rich enough to afford the cattle to help them till the land, but such luxuries were more often found further down south. It took more to feed one of the large heifers during the long winters and only be granted milk and physical labor in turn. A sheep or goat would give milk and the latter would grant wool while the former was better than any sentry. A few of the children watching the idling grazing communal herd waved to Gwendolyn as she passed, some bearing the leather straps of slings. Obviously practicing their aim with the useful tool that helped them scare off predators, though a few of the children seemed to be taking the added precaution of keeping in groups. Anything that would snatch a sheep could well snatch one of them.

As the young woman wandered through the forest, the branches arched overhead and the path was little more than a breakthrough the brush that was devoid of sticks gathered by others for firewood, or any edible plants that might serve someone for a meal. Sunlight grew in the sky and broke through the trees as a squirrel high above scolded Gwendolyn for intruding from high up an elm. Birds fluttered through the canopy, singing out tunes to one another in gossip. The yarrow plant was slowly disappearing having fallen out of season a moon or two before, but the darker shade of the stinging nettles bristled along one side of the clearing. It was not unusual for deer or boar to take shelter in the bush.

But that was not the only darker shadow within the clearing. As Gwendolyn bent down to slice the last of the season's yarrow, the healer would notice blood along the ground. Tuffs of fur as though some small creature had been killed and carried off. A small commonplace thing, but when compared with the recent rumors? A worrying sight. The blood led away from the village, towards where Gwendolyn and Arn would know a mountain stream ran down and would cross through the planted fields of Norn. As the trail led out of the cleaning, the blood became less though it appeared only hours old. If Arn were to try tracking he would note that the trail that led to the blood from the stinging nettles would be a rabbit, what left had come upon the creature quickly and killed it. The tracks that left towards the stream, however, were confusing. Others, a small group of young folk, had come across the trail beforehand and smeared the blood and tracks. Though one set of human tracks went after the trail of blood.

The hunter followed the same methods he was used to. He looked for signs of animal movement and habitation. Arn always wondered at their instincts to find the perfect place for them. He envied their innate knowledge and insight for avoiding danger.

Danger…

The word hanged in his mind like a bad odor. Heavy like some sort of fog that blurred his vision and made him be distracted about the task at hand. He had been tracking for about an hour already. As soon as he had left the cloister of the village and entered the cool dark woods a feeling had begun to creep in the back of his mind.

It was as if by leaving civilization and entering the domain of the wild, of the mysterious, he had entered the territory of danger.

But this time it was different from the ever present danger of predator and prey. He knew that feeling well. He had been one of the other depending on the time. He understood the game of survival and was a peace with it. But recently, there had been an external danger. Not natural but just as primal. He had felt like all the world was prey. Animal or human, there was no circle of life or hierarchy. There was only danger.

Danger…

The feeling moved its way to the fore front of his mind. Slowly like a stalking predator but there was nothing he could do to shake the thought. He was caught in the web like a helpless fly. His mind came back to all the sights he had seen in the last couple of weeks or months. Animals savagely mutilated and consumed.. Wounds that did not match any local predator. Even humans, as vane and destructive as they were, often took fur or other valuables leaving the carcass for carrion birds. But even these acts of savagery did not pose any real danger

DANGER….

The thought was becoming clearer and more insistent. Suddenly, the feeling transcended to confines of his mind to the real world. How long had it been since the silence fell? The usual chirping of birds, or rummaging of animals or even insects were gone. Despite this, Arn no longer felt alone in the woods. Why what was the danger.

DANGER!.....

The hunter trusted his instincts. He did not know why but he headed in the direction of the clearing. It was the obvious place. Inviting, seemingly safe. The flowers that grew there a pretty sight to the eyes distracting those inside the clearing from the dark place of the wood where predators could hide.

His feet pumped faster. His strong legs propelling his body quickly through the woods but still the sense of urgency did not diminish. His lungs pulled in huge amounts of musky air. Despite his size, he weaved through the wood like a deer or rabbit. Still branches snagged this arms and face as if accomplices of whatever had sparked his fight or flight response. Roots tripped him up like malicious tricksters wanting him struggle.

He saw the clearing up ahead, a solace from the darkness of the forest. The bright clearing nothing more than another trick to be played as it left the prey wide open. Many a prey had meet their end on that clearing both by his arrows and by claws or jaws. The beautiful yellow and white flowers stained red more than once. Would he make it in time? But in time for what? What was the danger?

He burst through the forest edge like a bear in full sprint.....

Gwendolyn paused in her gathering. Obviously, that didn't look good. There was little chance that those weren't the signs of the beast.

But the human tracks...The boys hadn't come out here, had they? No, surely not. And even if they did, none of them would be foolish enough to...

Oh they would have been, especially if dared by the others.

She looked up towards where the tracks led. With any luck, they'd be unharmed. But if they'd managed to catch up, she could only pray she'd be in time. She started forward, then stopped. What was she thinking? Whatever the creature was, she definitely couldn't fight it with only a knife. But if she went back, she could be too late if one of the boys were already hurt...

She heard a rustle in the undergrowth behind her, causing her to turn around then back up as the wild hunter charged forth. "Arn?"

Arn burst into the clearing. The sudden emergence into the sun almost blinding him and causing him to run into the small young healer’s daughter. His charge through the woods and his explosive culmination had left him breathless and he stumbled as his legs buckled beneath him doing their utmost to stop the forward motion of the big man.

He groaned as he inevitably fell forward, taking the poor lady along with him. However, the impact was lessened by his herculean effort to not hurt the girl. The hunter landed on his knees straddling the girls own legs. His strong fore arms landed and dug into the ground on either side of the young girl’s head. She probably would land with her eyes staring directly at his chest covered in furs not inches from her nose.

For half a second the big bear man remained on top of her. His mind trying to process what had just occurred. His thought a mixture of surprise and confusion. He felt as if somebody had woken him up from deep sleep with a splash of ice-cold water.

Suddenly, realization rushed into his mind as quickly as blood rushed into his face. He all bout pounced off her with an agility that was impressive for his large frame. Arn had not been so close to another human, let a lone a female one since he was a young boy. Their proximity had been enough for him to get a whiff of her scent utilizing his keen nose. His face burned with embarrassment and he could not bring himself to look at her in the eyes.

It was extremely fortunate thus, that he noticed the blood and signs of footprints. A small group seemed to have moved towards the direction of a mountain stream he knew well and that fed the fields planted by the village. He was not such an elite hunter that he knew whose the tracks belonged to but he was skilled enough to know that the tracks belonged to teens at the most.

DANGER!!

The voice in his mind appeared again. His eyes scanned the scene hurriedly. A sense of urgency starting to settle in. Why the urgency? Why did the sight of blood so disturbed him? Though it was unadvisable, many children played in the woods, definitely not taboo for teens. So why was he trying to solve this puzzle?

All these questions sent his mind reeling. All he knew was that he needed to follow the tracks. He turned to the young Gwendolyn. His voice gruff and still with a tinge of apologetic embarrassment. “I..am going to follow the tracks…you should head back. It may be dangerous.”

It never occurred to him that his words may be constituted as offensive. He was merely speaking the truth that he saw. If he had thought better about it, it would make a great deal of sense to invite one versed in healing along. After all, if his sudden burst of premonition was turned out to be true, then medical need might be required. The big man however was too used to being and acting alone. He also felt he was protecting her from whatever lay ahead.

The big man looked at the young girl through the top of his eyes and lowered head. He stood up not waiting for a reply from her and moved in the direction of the tracks. He would not stop her should she decide to come but he would move quickly enough to ensure he did not loose the tracks.

The forest invited him in. The cool shadows caressing and dancing on his furs as he moved through the woods. The slivers of light that managed to break through the thick covering of foliage seemed to tease, to hint only to disappear a second later.

He pressed forward. The hunter had been in these woods many times. However, this time it felt that as he moved deeper into the depths of the forest that he was moving into the unknown. It seemed to him just as one steps into a dark lake. What will emerge on the other side?

Coming into the tavern to rest for a while after her haunting vision, Mira prompted herself to push the thoughts deep down for the time being, she need not worry about what the dead had to say, the dead would stay dead when she needed their council. She opened the door to the mead hall and stepped in where people were squabbling earlier. Looking around, she saw what looked to be a peaceful scene at heart, warm fire, cool drinks, a drink or two stammering with his words, nothing the old crone hadn’t seen in her time. She let out a lazy sigh as she wandered in closer to the warmth. The northern lands were always cold, tolerable, but cold nonetheless. It was always good when an old woman got to warn her old bones by a tavern fire every now and turn. Mira didn’t stay there however, rather, she made her way towards a seat where she could catch some warmth easier. Towards what she assumed was the front of the tavern, Mira pulled up a stool by the bar where she could grab something to drink.

“Aye, a drink, if you could...” She said softly to the one handing out drinks. “Whatever you have.” Mira wasn’t a particularly heavy drinker, but some mead or ale every now and then kept the body going. She reached into her dark cloak and pulled out a small handful of coins to lay down on the table. Mira had a somber mood in her mind, she thought about the reason for her appearance in such a village as this, and the appearance of those visions. Whenever the woman would see such things, they were never particularly violent, they were like thoughts she couldn’t ignore, this was different. The blood, the animosity, something was wrong, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

Perhaps she would go to the man she spoke to, or find a chief or wiseman, someone who could get something done. “I am called Mira, ignore my dark presence, but I have seen visions of monsters in your home.” That wouldn’t go well, but she could surely convince them, could she not? Something sinister was at play in this village, and Mira would find out what it was.

The old man who was tending the long bar which served as a barrier from the kitchen proper looked up as Mira approached. The large woman, Ryska, glowered at the intruder. She was used to her father's work as the keeper of the mead hall but most did not come in upon the first light of day. Frenn himself seemed to hold no mind of his daughter or the wife of his son. Peering at the coins, the man tested them with his teeth. "Proper metal that is... From the south too. Suppose the trader will take them." To sum Frenn up in a single word, gruff. He was not unkindly but rather direct. Though the mention of visions turned Frenn's gruff disposition into one far colder. "Visions? Hah, don't need no visions with all the shrieking and squabbling. Won't be giving you a free bench to sleep on, nor coin for such common ken*."

Gwendolyn would stumble upon the fletching back half of an arrow. Blood smeared against the tree above it, as though someone wounded had rested there for a time before continuing. If they continued to follow the trail it would lead to a small rent in the earth. The stone had been carved through by the river into a six-foot drop on either side. The yearly flooding had left debris caught in the narrow passage, limiting the stream into a trickle. Arn would be able to see a furred body stretched along the bottom. Blood mingled with the water. It smelled like a wolf, the fur held the same sort of look, though there was something off with the proportions. The back was too hunched where it lay the legs too long, and half of it's jaw seemed to be missing. The good news was the monster appeared unaware of the two who followed the trail it had left.

*Ken = Knowledge

@LadyRunic

"I take it things of strange nature have been happening recently? The people here, they sound worried." Mira observed Frenn's gold test. "I just arrived before sunrise, I have been travelling the North for a long time. It is good to sit down by the warmth of a fire once in a blue moon." She laid her walking staff across her lap as she sank into the stool a little. "These are not easy times for strange things to begin, I don't envy this village." She remarked again, weary from her travels and her visions; While obtaining knowledge from the ones who came before always served her well, Mira was never able to handle conversation with the dead easily, receiving visions or wisdom from ghosts was draining on the soul, and her old bones weren't getting younger. She needed to sit down and rest as much as she could when the dead were particularly social with her, Mira's gift was a blessing and a curse, it took nothing to ask the departed to share their otherworldly wisdom with her, but their distance from this life and the next made it difficult to hear their speech, and to see their signs. Such a thing is ultimately harmless and would therefore never come close to killing Mira, but she could only muster up the energy to receive so much knowledge from the ones she could not see. Mira's age had a role to play in that, in her early years, she could speak with the dead all day and not break a sweat, but now she was old, close to the edge of life; Every passing year, she leans closer and closer to joining her spiritual guides, perhaps when she does, another will be blessed with her gift, until then, it's back to seeing the world.

Head back to the village while one of the boy's are likely injuried? Yeah right. Then Gwendolyn raced after Arn, following the trail along with him. Her knife tightly gripped in her hand. Such a beautiful day too...Couldn't focus on that right now. She frowned at the arrow, examining it closer to see if she recognized the fletching. The hunters all had their own way of doing it, with their preferred feathers to use. No way it could be one of Lutter's though. Not unless someone 'borrowed' them.

After checking that out, she went towards the rent behind Arn and looked down towards the strange body below. Her brow furrowed. This, was clearly no ordinary wolf. She'd seen plenty of those before, though either as pelts or safe behind the village walls. If anything, this could only be the monster that'd attacked Lutter. But now on the verge of death itself?

Arn did not wait for her answer and headed on down the obvious trail that had been left. The group, whoever they were, were obviously not hunters. They left more disturbed earth and signs of their passage than a herd of drunk seals. At least, to his experienced eyes. He grew serious as he looked over the scene. He looked at the arrow. He did not have to pick it up to analyze its construction being a fletcher himself. He was particularly interested in how the arrow was broken. If the arrow broke due to somebody falling on it, it broke almost along the length of the arrow, the wood trying to distribute the weight. If it was done by someone of intelligence it would be done width wise.

Regardless of the break, the wounded being still held the arrow inside of them. This was dangerous as any movement would continue to cause damage. The hunter moved from spot to spot, his face serious and somber as he studied each clue. Each made his brow furrow deepen. The blood on the tree really brought concern to his face. The height was much too high for it to be a normal deer and the disturbed landscape did not hit to a bear being wounded. After all, it would take more than a measly arrow to cause a bear to meander in the throes of pain.

He heard Gwendolyn rush behind him but even though he grunted his annoyance, he did not engage her further. He was much too concentrated on his current task. The girl may know of him or may be familiar with him but in his current state, he look wise and capable. Not at all like the picture many in the village painted of him being a big slow brute.

The bear man continued his tracking eventually leading him to the spring. Arn had used it plenty of times to quench his thirst or as a place to hunt the animals that may come for the same reason. This time of the year however, it would soon freeze and the debris dirtied the water so it was not very drinkable. The purity of the spring however, was the last thing on the hunter’s mind as he gazed at the bottom.

A figure, not unlike that of lupine semblance, lay at the bottom. The animal, or what looked like an animal, was clearly wounded. The wounds however did not match those that would be done by natural means. Which meant, a human was involved or something resembling human intelligence.

He felt the young woman come up behind him. Instinctively, Arn grabbed her hand as he kneeled down enough to not cast a shadow that could be seen from below and have cover of the cliff if the animal spotted them. Thankfully they seemed be downwind of the creature which should help keeping them hidden.

The hunter did not know why he felt the need to hide but he became really aware that yet again, he had violated the young woman’s personal space. He flushed and let her go but he used the same hand to bring a finger to his lips motioning for silence. He retrieved his bow from his back and carefully notched an arrow while keeping his pulling hand at the ready.

He scanned the area for any other danger and then turning to Gwendolyn he whispered. “Stay here.” That was the second time he had told her to do something. He figured that just like his first, she would disobey but he felt the need to at least get the words out. Carefully, like the hunters he mimicked, the big man moved slowly from their hiding place around and closer to the wolf thing. He moved silently for being such a big person. He kept his eyes on the thing while his pull arm was ready to fire should he need to.

Frenn's expression didn't soften a wit though he did nod in a gruff way and his voice perhaps took a tone of understanding. "Don't need any more ill will than what goes on. Trouble from the forest coming and raiding our supplies and livestock. We thought at first it was the lads, youths always getting up to some grand adventure, or a bandit troupe. Well, a bandit troupe don't put on the skins of wolves generally and attack folk." Grumbling to himself, the man hobbled away, leaving Mira to her own mind. The inn was quiet as Ryska had taken her leave, loudly complaining of backaches, much to Yvenna's pleasure. The younger woman sighed and gave a weary, but polite smile to Mira.

"Don't mind my husband's sister or her brood. Is there aught I can do for you, Frenn's gone for your ale. Usually we keep a cask up from the cellar, but being so early..." She shrugged absently. "We've bread just about to be fresh from the fire. Last night's roast as well- though it's a bit dry." For all the hollering earlier, the wife was as mild-mannered as any tavern keeper's wife in the South.

Elsewhere in the forest, the sun was burning off the mist as it slowly rose. Arn's approach, though silent it was, did not go unnoticed. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps the hyper-awareness of a hunted beast , but the wolf's head jerked up though not in a manner one would expect. The entire front end was pulled up slightly and revealed to the hunters the beast had no bottom jaw. Rather, as Arn was close enough to see, the lower jaw was that of a human. Blood streaked, but human. The bloodied teeth bared in a snarl as the creature twisted to sit on their haunches. The form was human, clothed in the skins of many wolves. Save for bare feet and fingers blackened by dirt and soot, every other inch was covered in fur, including a tail of varying hues that hung were a wolf's would. Blood seeped from a puncture wound in the wolf-human's thigh, the leg bent as to not take weight on it. Tumbling from the hood of wolf fur, that fell from the 'face' of the wolf, hair came snarling in dreds. Yet, even as the two watched. The two ears on the top of the human-wolf's head pinned back as it made a rasping snarl again. The jaws snapping at the air.

Taking a step back, however, proved to be the creature's undoing. The wounded leg buckled and the creature fell to one side with a sharp yelp of pain.

Arn kept his bow string taunt enough that the arrow was secured as he walked around the cut in the earth. His eyes stayed on the wolf thing but would scan the are without turning his head. His arrow tip stayed towards the ground but at an angle so that he could easily bring it to aim should he need to. His breath was even and controlled. The hunter had done this many times before. He had tracked both prey and predator a like yet nothing like what was before him.

For the first time in a very long time, Arn felt a small pang of fear. All his instincts told him that the being that was before him was not natural. The forest seemed to agree with him as all sound was gone. Either that, or his senses were heightened. He could hear his own slow breathing but sounded like gusts of wind in his ears. He just hoped that being this careful would not attract the attention of the …thing.

As if to answer his inner thoughts, the head jerked upward. Arn almost stumbled at the view before him. The hunter’s mind tried to make sense of what he saw. At first it seemed as if the thing was human with only wolf pelts on not unlike what Arn himself would look to the villagers. Yet as he watched, the bear man saw the ears on what should be a hood perk backwards just as an animals would. The actions of the thing were very feral like.

Arn would have still been enthralled in studying the creature when it fell and cried out in pain very much like a human would. This made up the hunter’s mind. He slowly lowered his bow and arrow and slowly lowered himself to the ground until his knees almost touched. He would stay like this for a minute or two just studying the creature and letting it study him.

The hunter was slowing his breathing trying to project calm. Once he felt enough time had passed he said in a loud enough voice to be heard but not to scare the creature.

“I mean you no harm. You are hurt. I can help” his voice carried the 12 feet or so that separated them. The hunter lowered his bow further as sign that he meant what he said.

“I can help” he said again, his head would nod as a dog’s would when trying to communicate. His mannerisms slowly turned to those of a canine. Looking at the creature thought the top of his eyes, keeping his mouth lowered to not show his teeth.

Gwendolyn paused at the display, eyes furrowed as she stood and watched. Was this, the one that'd nearly killed Lutter? The monster that everyone had been scared of? Part of her wanted to kill it now, make sure that it didn't terroize anyone ever again. Part of her just wanted to run, warn the others about just what was in their forest.

The other part...saw the way he stumbled back in fear, how in pain he really was. Saw how the leg bent. He needed a splint if it was ever going to get better, and she was a healer. Everything else she could figure out later.

Slowly and carefully, she mirrored Arn's movements, letting Arn speak for now as internally she examined and planned what she would need. Definitely a splint and bandages. Maybe yarrow for the bleeding?

The wolf-creature watched Arn as the large man approached. Snarling and growling like any cornered wolf who was stuck in a trap. Though this was a trap not of Arn's making, but one of an injury caused by man. As Arn spoke softly the wolf creature quieted. Almost as if it were listening to the words, though Arn could see the eyes held no real recognition for the words. As Gwendolyn mimicked Arn's movements the being's growl grew louder, too many people around this creature could well spark a defensive attack. Minutes ticked by and the growls softened to whines of pain. The blood was seeping across the ground and it was likely the arrow had come very close to hitting something vital. Gwendolyn's knowledge of healing would tell her that if it had hit one of the large arteries then this creature, running and crashing through the brush, would already be dead. Bled out and laying motionless on the ground.

Finally, the wolf-human lowered their body to the ground. Weakness overcoming them, Arn would see the lack of curves that would denote the creature as male. The arms well-muscled under the pelts of wolves, the body toned from hunting. Scars marked what of the human skin, Arn could see of the man-wolf. Yet, as the human creature laid their head upon their hands much like a wolf upon their forepaws, the ears perked towards the two and the teeth, so very white and sharp looking, were still bared in a warning. The tail also moved, curling about the injured leg as though to hide it. Understandably, weakness lead to death in the unforgiving north.

Arn studied the wolf creature. His eyes made a reconnaissance trail from the top of the pelted head down to the creature’s wounded legs. Nothing made sense. It was as if the creature before him had been pieced together haphazardly from parts of humans and wolves that had been left over. The creature was neither human or animal. This made his approach that much more difficult. After all, if it could not understand human language then it would be hard to communicate with it. If it was not like an animal, then human thinking might get in the way of instinct that most animals had to detect threats.

The hunter evaluated the situation. He could see that the blood loss was weakening the creature. The creature knew it too. Most animals would try to remain threatening if surrounded who the perceived as predators or carrion eaters. Like a carrion eater, the human pair could wait until the creature loss consciousness. However, this plan could be dangerous to the creature as it may never wake up again.

Arn kept his low silhouette and backed away slowly until he was within ear shot of Gwendoly. He spoke loud enough of the young girl to hear but his tone was calm and relaxed. The creature might not understand them but the tone used could still cause alarm. “What would you like to do healer? I have never seen such a creature in my days.” He kept his eyes on the creature, the bow and arrowed lowered but still at the ready.

“It looks hurt. If we try to catch it, it might hurt more or hurt us. If we wait, it might die.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Could you help it? Or will I need to ease its pain?” He slightly moved his bow and arrow meaningfully.

The hunter could not bear to have an animal suffer. Putting a creature down would actually be humane. However, its human appearance might affect the view of the young girl. It is not very common or acceptable to do the same to a human.

Arn waited for the answer. It was not fair of him to place the burden of decision on the young lady but he felt like he could not take the decision himself. In a way, he was showing that he valued her judgment. Also, it was sort of a punishment too. He had asked her not to come. Now that she was here, she would have to share in the consequences of their decisions.

Gwendolyn looked between Arn and the, creature, gaze full of thought. Perhaps it were truly only an animal, it would be better to just kill it. But if it were also a man...She couldn't live with herself if she didn't at least try, see what the truth was. And so, the answer was clear. "...I will do what I can." She got her supplies at the ready. "How do you suggest I approach him?"

Arn sighed. He had figured that the young girl, a healer, would try to save this unknown human wolf creature. His instincts had warned him before yet now stayed silent. What had that voice in the back of his mind been warning him about? Could this strange creature be the reason? The forest was also eerily silent as if all eyes were turned to the three by the creek. Arn took a steadying breath as he slowly set down his bow and arrow in the ground next to him.

He had asked the girl for a decision and though it annoyed him to be the one to get in the way of danger, still it needed to be done. He weighed his options. If the humanoid creature behaved or thought as a canine, taking control of the head would be the easiest method. However, unlike dogs, humans did not posses strong neck or jaw muscles and their bite width was lessened.

If the creature however, was more given to be have like a human, then Arn had to deal with tactics and wrestling that would involve punches, kicks etc. whatever the case, he figured that his bigger stature and the creature’s wounded state might provide some advantage. Arn proceeded to take off his cloak of furs revealing his well-muscled and scarred body. The cooling breeze tickled at his skin.

There was a slight moment of embarrassment and vulnerability. His eyes looked at the young girl out of the corner of his eye. He grunted and then collected himself. “I will try to grab it. It may be hard to fix the leg. I will try to hold it.”

With that, he proceeded towards the creature with his cloak in front of him like a blanket. His aim was to throw it over the creature and then jump on it while holding it into a bear hug from behind. This would protect them from bite or scratches and will leverage his bigger frame.

He had performed this technique many times before. Animals tended to lunge at the furs, which would unbalance them and provide an opening for Arn to merely fall on them, wrap arms and legs around the animals and subdue them. Having the extra pair of hands from Gwendoly could also help if they needed to somehow tie and secure the creature.

Wrong rp whoops