Col Ward's years of training were being put to the test. Before, he had not even gotten one strike off on the wolves, when Sir Rolfe was overrun. This time would be different. As the beast violently thrashed its head with Col's shield, the aspiring knight used its own momentum against it. Col plunged his weapon at the wolf's head. His accuracy was effected by the erratic movements. Still, Col managed to violently tear through the left side of its face with cold steel. The creature released the cracked shield from its jaws, snarling in pain. It backed up from the warrior squire. Blood dripping from its face. Its left eye was slashed straight through. Col breathed heavily, his shield hardly of any more use then a block of wood at this point. His arm was sore, but not broken as far as he could tell. He clenched his weapon in hand tightly. It was apparent this beast still had a lot of fight left in it.
Marque moved with purpose to the aid of his allies. The whole time keeping an eye on the one staring him down with his flaming stick between them. The one confronted by Martyrdom eyed the burning stick warily as Marque passed. It began backing up from the flame. When Marque arrived at Lorenzo's side he watched as the crippled man struggled to claim his bow and arrows. Acting quickly, he helped the cripple retrieve them much faster. Time was of the essence.
Lorenzo attempted to gather his bow and three arrows. Being crippled slowed down his progress when Marque appeared and handed him his necessary tools. Taking them he turned to see a wolfborn snarl in pain from Col's strike. A few seconds passed as it shook its head back and forth; blood splattering to the ground. Lorenzo's arms shook in fear as he notched his arrow. The beast lunged at Col once more with a roar of anger. Injured though it be, it moved with an intensity and rage Lorenzo had never seen in an animal before. Right before it reached the tired squire Lorenzo released his arrow, aiming for the beast's leg. His years of practice helped to compensate for the shaking in his hands. The arrow pierced the hind leg of the creature. It stumbled at high speed, knocking Col aside as it tumbled directly into a tree. It crashed with a sickening
crunch. Then it was silent.
Meanwhile Martyrdom ran after the retreating wolf and went to sink his teeth into it. Unfortunately, the beast was much too strong and fast for the amateur hunting hound. The wolfborn knocked the dog with a headbutt and sank its teeth into Martydom's back. He howled in pain. But before the wolf could put him down, Bastian rushed the beast's opposite side with a ferocity that matched the wolfborn itself. He plunged his knife into its side with great force. The wolf jerked away in pain, letting the dog loose from its jaws as blood gushed from its second wound.
Favian watched his allies fight for their lives as he attempted to get out of his sleeping bag. Suddenly, the wolf that was held at bay by Marque's flame no longer had any obstacle. It sniffed the air and turned to Favian with a glint in its eye as if it had found something significant. Running at full speed it grasped the sleeping bag Favian was in with its jaws. It began pulling the poor bard with great strength and speed away from the campsite. By the time anyone noticed it was too late. They could only hear the screams of their ally as he was dragged off into the night.