Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
When no one answered, he pushed the door further open and saw a fire burning in the hearth. He called out again and when no one responded, he entered and jumped back, his heart slamming against his chest and his hand going to the hilt of his sword at his waist.
He shook his head when he realized the wolf’s eyes glaring at him and the sharp teeth appearing ready to attack was the head of a wolf resting on a bench. He stepped further into the small room and when he reached the center, he stood staring at the walls. Wolf pelts covered the walls.
“MacMadadh, son of the wolf,” he whispered, reminding himself once again.
Was the clan out hunting wolves tonight the reason the village appeared empty? Were women and children tucked away tightly in their homes while their husbands hunted? Or had he stumbled into a den of werewolves?
Cree shook his head at the insane thought, blaming it on the heavy fog and the prowling wolves. Whoever inhabited this place was a skilled wolf hunter. He turned to leave, anxious to get back to Dawn, when he heard a weak growl. He gazed around and when he didn’t spot anything he went to leave only to have his attention caught again by the sound of several, soft growls.
He thought he knew where it came from and stepped closer to the narrow bed in the corner and that’s when he spotted the small paws peeking out from beneath the bed.
He set the torch he carried in a bracer on the wall and crouched down in front of the small paws, tossing the blanket back that hung down over the side of the bed, hiding the animal beneath.
A little wolf cub stared back at him growling, his teeth small but sharp, nonetheless.
“Are you all right, little wolf?” he asked, and the cub jumped at him as if ready to attack then cried out in pain and collapsed.
Cree wondered if the wolf he heard outside the stable was searching for the small cub and if the injured cub was drawn into the heat and safety of the shelter. He knew he should leave the cub alone and let his mum or da find him, but what if they didn’t? What if the hunter returned and found him? But his decision to help the cub was made on only one thought… Dawn would never forgive him for not helping the helpless, little cub, wolf or not.
He grabbed a soft pelt from the bed and dropped it over the cub’s head and snatched him up quickly, muffling his small but menacing snarls. It took some maneuvering, but he was finally able to see the cub had suffered a wound to his left front leg. The only thing he could think of using on the cub’s minor wound was honey. Whether honey worked on wolves as it did on humans, he didn’t know, but it was all he knew to do for the little fellow. With the cub tucked under his arm, and the pelt still covering his head to keep him from biting him, Cree looked around and found a small crock of honey. He sat on a bench and with more hasty maneuvering got the honey smeared heavily on the wound, though not without snarls from the cub.
When he finished, he placed the cub on the ground and snatched the pelt off him. The little cub rushed back beneath the safety of the bed, sticking his head out and snapping at Cree.
“That’s the appreciation I get for helping you?” Cree said with a snarl of his own and the cub turned silent.
Cree realized it wasn’t him who caused the cub’s sudden silence. It was the howl of a wolf in the distance that silenced the cub and had him returning the howl, louder than Cree expected. He took his leave without hesitation, thinking the cub’s response would surely bring a wolf and by sheer luck, he found his way back to the keep.
Cree pounded on the door. “Open up!”
“I feared you got lost,” Olwen said, her eyes round with worry after opening the door.
“I almost did,” Cree confessed and thought to tell her about the cub but stopped. It was better he kept the incident to himself, at least for now, though he would tell his wife.
“I will take you back to your wife. You can eat and rest and hopefully the heavy mist will be gone by morning,” she said and took the torch from him to return to the bracer.
Cree did not like hearing that the mist might continue to linger. He wanted to leave this strange place as soon as possible and get his wife home where his skilled healer, Elsa, could care for her.
“Does heavy mist usually last a day or more around here?” he asked.