Winter’s breeze chilled the countryside. Snow in place of leaves covered the trees, the only décor of this forgotten wasteland. Small villages boomed with life the more one followed Agius, the river of everfrost, as children called it, which animals crossed over finally able to migrate from this depleted land.

A man exhaled producing a large puff as he watched the creatures of the woods do just that. He counted them one by one, marking something on a roll of paper with a charcoal. Disapproval veiled his face.

“One…two…three… too little… are we overhunting?” After marking a few more strokes on his notes he stood up brushing off the snow from his warm winter-gear and, after picking up his hunting bow, turned straight into the forest. He roamed it as if following a road, all of which at this time of year were non-existent, and with the most optimal route possible quickly reached the outskirts of his home village. As usual the chimneys worked overtime no less than their owners. But before going home he still had a task waiting for him.

He walked round the edge of the forest, looking for something. It didn’t take long for his veteran eyes to notice small footprints. “Wolves,” he whispered to no one but himself. From the tracks he guessed they belonged to a pair of cubs and their mother. He mused for a moment and eventually decided to follow them, just to make sure there wasn’t a larger pack roaming the forest. At least it ain’t goblins. He thought. That would be catastrophic for such a rural village.

Following the tracks took less than an hour until he reached a small hovel in the snow. It was in a place where trees were scarcer, a perfect spot for the snow wolves to huddle together and look out for other predators. Confirming from afar that the hovel was too small for a large pack the hunter was about to turn round and leave, but at the last moment something caught his eye. Specks of blood trailed out of the burrow, going deeper into the forest. Naturally, he had to investigate, as the village depended on his work.

Walking vigilantly while dodging stumps and old traps the man followed the trail. Looking at the vast blue above the tree line, he constantly checked the sun’s position, slightly worried that the night would befall him. The drops of blood increased in number, he mused the wolf could not survive such a loss, but still continued. He thought he might get a pelt out of it if he’s lucky and was confident that he could avoid danger.

As he trekked through the snow, which at places easily reached his knees, a sound of talking reached him. Immediately the man hid and prepared his bow. Thoughts flushed through his mind. Injured wolf, declining wildlife… “Poachers, huh…”

Obviously he couldn’t just attack them, as even in the slightest chance they weren’t what he thought he could become a criminal. He lied on his stomach and began crawling, for a moment he grinned at the thought of his friends, whom called him a wicked serpent, if they could see him right now they’d be laughing their asses off and make fun of him for the rest of his life.

“St…op…” A feminine voice begged forcing the worst thoughts to come to the hunter’s mind as his imagination went wild. He peeked over a fell tree and witnessed the scene to its fullest.

A rich man, likely a noble, was force feeding a young, beautiful woman. She was so dazzling he didn’t even notice the pair of horns and an inhuman tail sprouting from her body, not to mention the riches donning the noble’s crimson robe.

“Eat.” The nobleman once more ordered as he scooped something out of a split-open skull of a wolf.

What the fuck?! Was all that he could think. The nobleman was trying to, or rather already was, shoving fists full of brain down her mouth. It was a sickening sight as blood dripped down the crying woman’s, soft, plump lips, down her neck and all the way to her ample bosom… What could Henry, the hunter, do? Interfering might mean death, and if he attacked he’d definitely be doomed, even his village would be held responsible and burned to the ground.

He shook his head furiously, barely hanging onto his composure. I won’t be able to fall asleep if something so horrible happens to a lady because of me… Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and began to look for anything that could be of use.

First he saw the carriage and wondered if he could hijack it or something, but instantly rejected the idea. It would be virtually impossible to run away in this forest with it, and he didn’t know how to control one in the first place. The coachman wasn’t in sight. He looked and looked but there was nothing else that was even close to plausible, even shooting the noble was out of the question, as a fully decked out knight sat on a stump further away. The fate of the woman looked bleak the more he thought about it.

“Eat. Eat. Eat.” The noble urged, squishing the red filth against her desperately closed mouth. Five minutes passed of this torture as Henry barely held himself back. He silently hoped that the nobleman will regain his sanity or else he’ll end up shooting him.

It didn’t happen.

“Hmm... maybe you’re picky… read that’s a thing with you… humans.” He rolled the carcass up, exposing the belly, and reached for his blade.

Henry felt immense anger rush over him as he imagined the woman being force fed the filth again and reached for his quiver. Nocking the arrow, he pulled it to its limit, until he even heard the wood strain under the pressure, and let go as the man began to cut open the wolf. With a whoosh the arrow skidded across the wooden base and flew with the speed of an eagle towards the unsuspecting man. A solid hit landed, somewhere around the kidney, and the metal head dug surprisingly deep, almost half-shaft of length went in.

As the man was flung slightly to the side due to the sheer pressure of the attack, his guard immediately responded with drawing his sword and running towards where Henry hid. Not having enough time to even contemplate on how he knew where he was Henry nocked another arrow and with a quick pull shot at the guard. Once again his aim was perfect, honed with years of practice, but the opponent was armored this time and Henry didn’t even think of targeting the joints. His desperate arrow flew freely across the air and shattered upon contact to the chest, not even denting the plate. The sun glistened off of the metal tip for a moment before it disappeared within the snowy landscape. Quickly, he managed to shoot a yet another arrow at the guard, but even when he tried, hitting the joints seemed like an impossible dream, as it once more hit the plate, this time not splitting and flinging sideways into the unknown.

“Shit,” was all he said when he dodged to the side, trying to avoid the deadly blade. Having lived a slow hunter’s life and being rather old he didn’t quite manage to do so and the knight, who probably trained daily and was not some dull villager, easily outmaneuvered him. Even for Henry the swordsmanship of the man seemed unimpressive, but perhaps that was how every masterful skill looked to the unknowing. Nonetheless, after two or three slashes the blade cut flesh, easily going through his clothing, and blood began to seep out.

“Your master will bleed out if you don’t stop!” he cried out at the knight, but, perhaps due to intense anger, he didn’t listen at all. Trying to figure out a way to live this through, cuts began to accumulate, and the conclusion he reached – it was impossible. He attacked a Lord, like some bandit or a savage, and this was the price he’ll pay for it.

I won’t die for nothing. He thought and began to maneuver towards the woman, hoping to at least untie her as his last bravado. On purpose he dodged around difficult places, like stumps or other obstacles. Due to sheer luck and grace of God the knight stumbled into a deeper part of snow, buying Henry those few seconds he needed. Immediately he turned to run towards the woman and within moments reached her. Being this close to a top-tier beauty made his heart skip even more so than it already was. Still blind to the inhuman features she possessed, he looked for the rope, careful not to touch her, as if he’d somehow taint her, but his hopes were shattered when under her cloak he saw that chains bound her, not meager rope.

The face of a cornered animal appeared on his face, followed closely by realization that his life will soon be over. Turning round to face his enemy (he always wanted to die knowing who did him in) Henry expected to face death once more, but nothing came. He looked at the knight who stood still like a statue, as if waiting for someone.

“Is this how rabbits prance around during their soirees?” The hoarse nobleman spoke calmly. Only now did Henry realize how wrong the man sounded, not to mention looked. He sat, as if relaxing by an imaginary fire, completely unfazed by the arrow sticking out of him.

“Ah, this?” He said, noticing Henry’s gaze, and pulled the arrow out. Henry winced, expecting blood, but nothing came, only a pair of small skulls fell out in response. “Ohhh. You hit one of my straps.” An evil cackle resounded behind the silver mask. The mask had a disturbing smile on it, one of those you usually see in the Capital’s theater, but the true face behind it must’ve been as evil as one gets to produce such sound. “Ah. Was it not funny?” He asked, almost sounding sincere.

“No. It really wasn’t.” This time said the woman behind Henry. She didn’t seem fazed at all, even though moments ago tears fell from her eyes like waterfalls.

Henry tried to digest whatever was happening right now but couldn’t. Maybe I’m dreaming? He thought and then a few more guards entered the camp. One enormous figure boomed over them at the very back, completely covered with cloth, obviously sewn together from different pieces.

“Sun’s bad for them.” The noble answered out of nowhere confusing the hell out of Henry again. He then clapped, though it sounded like rocks banging against another, and said: “Okayy, time for you to die.”

“Huh?”

“What? Did you expect to live?” He tilted his head in confusion. “Honestly, your presence is obnoxious…” He paused contemplating something. “It’s like having a back-ache because someone is sitting on you…or something.” His guards began to walk towards him all the while releasing some sort of muffled growling from beneath their helmets. Henry’s mind was already at a loss for words so he just stood there hoping to wake up. “I’m sure you’ll unders-”

“Wait!” The woman shouted, waking Henry up from his delusions.

What is she…

“Can I eat him?”