<div style="text-align: justify;">Brietta was pretty sure there was trouble nearby. Yet, being in her human form, she knew the other female could sniff the air much better than she could. Lizette's confirmation made Brietta sigh very softly. She would love to be able to fight again right now. All she wanted was to be able to take all of those barbarians down. Even if it meant she should go down with them. But Brietta couldn't risk Lizette's life. She couldn't and she wouldn't.<br/><br/>And it was pretty clear that the female was not nearly as willing to fight as she was. Who could blame her? That was not her homeland. Those people who had been killed were not her family and friends. The homes that had been burned to the ground didn't belong to her tribe or her pack. She had lost nothing, and had nothing to atone for. Brietta did.<br/><br/>Even though she had fought with all her power, Brietta still felt that she could have done more. If only she had taken down a few more barbarians, maybe some of the others would have survived. <br/><br/>When Lizette turned back into her human form, interrupting her line of thoughts, Brietta looked her over. She was a bitten werewolf. That took her aback a little. Some bitten wolves held resentment against all werewolves for taking the chance of a normal life away from them. Some embraced their society and felt happier living in a pack than they had ever felt living in the human world. It was hard to tell without knowing them well. But that was not the time for a deep conversation.<br/><br/>"Not now. If you go back to the river now, you may be caught. I do not doubt they have someone in there, in case we return for water. We must flee. And fast. If they catch us, death will be the best thing we can expect out of these barbarians."<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #800000">_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________</span></span></div><br/><br/>Wolf, the boss thought to himself. So there was a wolf. And a really large one, judging by the size of the pawprint. The man got on his knees and examined the print carefully. It was a healthy beast, and larger than any he had ever seen. The leader of the barbarians laughed.<br/><br/>"Good. I 'ave been in need of new fur for the winter", the man stated. His light blue eyes had a delighted expression. As any viking, he loved battles. The chase was also good. It was a good exercise, and it was effective in getting rid of the boredom. "Listen up, boys!", the man shouted.<br/><br/>"Some dirty dog wasn't as dead as we thought he was, and burned down our prize", he started when the others turned to him. "And a large wolf has been in this place as well, after we have left. If this is a regular wolf or one of those flea riddled monsters, I have yet to know. But we must find both. Or make sure they are not one. The wolf's fur is my share of the kill. Anything else we find belongs to you!"<br/><br/>After these words, the leader turned to Bern'nard.<br/><br/>"Lead the way."</div>