[alaklondewen]

“This has gone on long enough,” Marcho groaned to his lovely wife you sat beside him on the back of their wagon. Estella’s brother had found himself in the center of what was becoming an all-out brawl, and Marcho was tired of watching their ruckus behavior. He was going to put a stop to it now, before the argument became violent. What happened in the moments following Marcho’s decision and when he actually arrived on the battle zone occurred so swiftly, it was a blur in the scout’s mind. Old Fordogrim Chubb, either intentionally or not, whacked Kalimac directly in the nose. An action that resulted in an outbreak of violence that concluded with the Chubb father sitting on Kalimac, who was about to receive a good pounding.

“That’s enough!” The scout growled and caught hold of Harold’s arm as it swung downward. Harold struggled momentarily against Marcho’s grip, but the scout was sturdy enough to be able to drag the Chubb from his brother-in-law. “Would you look at yourselves? All of you!” He was about to tell them how they were all acting like fools, when a ghastly howl was heard nearby. The scout froze in his tracks and spoke not. Kalimac started to speak, but Marcho hushed him and listened intently. The bay came from just inside the forest, not 10 yards from where they stood.

Slowly, steadily Marcho unsheathed his knife. “Wolves…” he finally whispered. Regaining his wit, he ordered the men to get their weapons out. “Estella, Elsa, Sarah. Get the kids and get them to your wagons…now.” The scout did not take his eyes from the darkness under the trees, but the command in his voice was enough to get the adults moving.