That morning was oddly silent. Normally, there would have been a howl, then more accompanying it soon after, crescendoing into a symphony of howls to greet the early morning. However, this morning was different; it was dead silent. The rising of the sun was greeted by not a sound.
As the Huntsman arose out of his temporary hovel, he stepped out into the clearing, an array of perplexity was brought over the man’s countenance. Where were the wolves? They wouldn’t have just up and left without reasonable cause. Did something come in the night? Were they attacked? What was the reason behind this sudden disappearance?
Treading across the clearing and through the thicket, the Huntsman took a deep breath; the air was damp from the morning mist. He halted his pace when he thought he heard a rustling of the leaves from nearby. Standing where he was for a moment, he listened intently in silence, holding his breath. Nothing. Must have been the wind. With that, he continued on his hike though the woods to figure out what had happened to the wolves.
A soft whimper brought the man to a halt again. Where was it coming from? His hand twitched at his side; too far a way for it to be necessary for him to draw his dagger. Even though it pained the man to have to listen for another strained whimper, it was a must in order to catch the direction to which the sound came from. The whimper sounded again; it was close. The Huntsman continued on.
From out of the thicket and in another opening of the forest lay a wolf on its side, clearly in pain. But, as soon as the Huntsman stepped out of the thicket, another wolf leaped out from the opposing side. With a low growl, it bared its teeth as it scratched the ground. The man’s brow furrowed in response to this other wolf’s actions; they never acted that way, not when around the Huntsman. He then proceeded to lower himself into a submissive bow, a stance known to the wolves. Nothing. The wolf continued to growl at the man; something was definitely off about this wolf.
When the leaves began to rustle from behind the wolf, the wolf looked back, letting out a firm bark before turning back to glare at the Huntsman. A slender figure stepped out from behind the thicket. A woman, fur-clad with two-toned hair of black and white. Upon seeing her, the Huntsman’s brows furrowed, eyes growing dark. The mere fact that this woman was layered in fur disgusted the man so much that he felt sick to his stomach.
As he finally held a glare at her, holding back a growl deep in his throat, he called out, “Who are you and what have you done to the wolves?”
