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‘No, Mistress Wenda,’ said Birger, crouching down by White Paw. ‘He’s no Elf dog. White Paw’s just good wolf stock and, of course, his daddy’s the inn hound.’ Birger buried his face in the thick fur of White Paw’s neck. ‘His daddy was a brave’un. Stood off a bear from attacking one of the woodsmen who’d gone out to bring in wood for the inn. White Paw’s brave, too. I’m sure he’d help if he could.’
Birger stood up and looked over at the Halfling, Andwise. ‘I don’t know about unwights or wights even. But maybe Master Andwise’s traps could help. Slow it down or something, at least, couldn’t they? Enough for someone else to kill it off.’
‘What about you, Master Stamo, Master Mori?’ he asked, turning to where the tall men sat. ‘What do you think?’
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