The tearing earth sounded like a galloping horse was trying to kick its way through the ground in a frenzy, my wide eyes turned to look in that direction.

Horror washed over me as I saw the direwolf.

A monstrous wolf, huge and grey furred, muscles that looked grotesque in shape and size, it's great clawed paws were tearing up chunks of earth as he tore from between the trees towards me at a rapid pace.

It's body shifted as I jumped to my feet, I could tell it was about to push itself into the air, to pounce on me and I knew I would die by it's fangs.

Almost by reflex I kicked my booted foot into my fire, my cooking bird, still flaming wood, sparks, ashes and hot coals flew out in a huge scatter.

It was just enough to save my life.

The beast recoiled somewhat awkwardly as the unexpected shower of heat and lights rained over it, having been moving fast and preparing to jump, it's hurried change of intent and movement bought me enough time to somehow get a hold on my stone knife.

Then naturally, I turned and ran.

Another ear-splitting roar that warped into a chilling and unearthly prolonged howl of rage sounded out behind me.

I had never run so fast or hard in my life, even when I had been fleeing my uncle's men, my flight then paled in comparison to the sheer speed of my acceleration.

My chest was so tight I thought for sure that my heart had simply seized up completely from shock and terror.

I felt as if I would simply drop dead before it could even reach me.

I was running for the road, jumping the under brush of the forest, over rocks trying to move in a straight, direct line trying make as much distance between me and the beast as quickly as possible.

I wasn't going to make it to the road, and even if I did, what then?

For some reason making it to the road had seemed like the place to go for safety but for no real reason.

There was no safety offered by the road, no one was there to give help, there was only me and the beast.

Unable to resist the urge to indulge in the small torture of looking at my killer, I glanced back for less than a second and I could see the yellow eyes focused on me, the hulking grey furred shoulders and his head down low as it was closing in on me.

In a panic my free hand raised up and a gale of epic proportions blasted from around me, I had enough time to see beast lift up off the ground and fly backwards into the trunk of a tree.

The tree trunk burst apart as if it were shattered glass and at the same time I fell forward onto the ground from a full run.

My head swam with dizziness and I thought I would vomit, shivering and being punched by my heart from within my chest I got up.

My first few steps were nothing more than falling stumbles in a forward direction but the sound of another unearthly howl from the beast had me forcing my body into the correct movements in rapid order.

I caught sight of the road in front of me from between the trees at the same time I realised I had headed for the damn road again without thinking, but I kept moving faster.

Distance, no matter the direction, between me and that thing could only be a good thing.

The sound of tearing earth behind me came even louder and faster than before and I spun around having reached my mindless goal of standing on the packed dirt of the road.

From between the trees and the shadows they cast, the beast's yellow eyed gaze was one of absolute madness.

Bloody saliva poured from it's maw in thick ropey strands to whip over it's snout and neck by it's movements.

There was something hideously wrong with it's movements.

I had only one thing left.

A hand raised once more but rather than an explosive gale of air, it was the hand clutching my stone knife.

That press of will, the push of tightly forced air that I had used with my stones to hunt, bloomed and manifested.

As the hulking beast reached me and dove through the air to land on me, my knife shot out of my hand and then the beast's bulk slammed into me.

The first thing I felt was unsurprisingly pain, but it was the pain of not being able to breath. My vision was swarming with spots and I obviously briefly lost consciousness.

My arms started hammering at the grey furred mass on top of me, pounding into anything I could reach.

I could feel my face burning when a breath finally managed to get sucked into my mouth with a loud ragged gasp, then another and one more before I noticed it.

Or rather noticed the lack of it, movement.

The grey furred mass wasn't moving at all, it was almost crushing me sure but there were no claws raking into my innards, no fanged maw at my neck, not even a reaction to my wild thumping and thrashing, which abruptly stopped.

It's corpse, for that is what it now was, wasn't neatly piled on top of me.

The beast was twisted oddly and I looked at it's great big head to the side of me.

A lifeless yellow eye stared out at nothing but about an inch of stone covered where the second eye should have been. It took a long time for me to acknowledge that the inch of stone was in fact the end of the handle of my stone knife.

The idea that I had somehow managed to kill this beast with dumb luck born of desperation just seemed too bizarre to me.

My breaths began to become less ragged as I just stared at it. I realised that most of the beast wasn't actually on me, I hadn't struggled to breathe because it was crushing me but rather because it had knocked the wind from me as it collided with me.

Almost numbly my hand reached for the end of the knife handle, I hesitated briefly to touch it, an irrational fear that it was somehow still alive and that horrid snout would suddenly snap down on my wrist.

As my finger began to slowly pull the stone knife out a little at a time I realised I could hear more thudding, then other snorting pants, grunts and odd animal sounds.

Panicking, and instantly deciding that it's howls must have been a call to others of it's kind, I set both my hands onto the bloody handle of the stone knife, frantically trying to get it loose enough to come out.

With a disgusting wet sucking sound, it came free and I gripped the handle as tightly as I could but my hands were now covered with blood.

The other beasts were almost upon me, I could hear them just behind me.

Scrambling out from under the monster and even as I spun around I knew I was too late, that sudden halt in thundering stomps was enough for me to realise that they had already begun their pounce.

Stone blade held out in front of me in a futile gesture, roaring in defiance then suddenly freezing.

Four, lightly armoured and armed men, on panting and lathered horses had come to a halt before me and I just stared at them dumbly.

“Easy lad.” An older man with a generous sprinkling of grey in his otherwise thick black beard said in a deep voice.

Another of the men jumped down from his horse and I looked at him intently deciding that I didn't recognise him as one of my uncle's men, I relaxed slightly and the first man seem to sense I had become less tense, if only slightly.

“Fuck me.” Said a narrow faced, thin man, at the rear in a hushed whisper to the other next to him. “He's just a boy.”

I almost opened my mouth to tell him that the boy was right here if he had something he wanted to tell me, but the first man, the one who seemed to be in charge spoke first.

Seeming to ignore the comment from the narrow faced man.

“That's Glenn.” He said nodding from atop his horse at the plain looking, brown haired man who stood calmly next to his horse, not having moved any closer since dismounting.

“He's got a touch of the healing magic in him.” The man told me, as the man named Glenn nodded in affirmation still standing patiently. “He'll not harm you but he can see to your wounds.”

The man kept steady eye contact with me as a brief silence followed.

I didn't know any of these men and the older man who kept my gaze didn't have that glint in his blue eyes that I had come to recognise from my uncle's men.

That look that you could just feel, the greed, the sliminess, that something that was missing from them that only made them value themselves.

I doubted that these men were sent looking for me but at the same time I wouldn't simply trust them blindly.

I would have to keep on guard.

“I don't have any wounds.” I said to the older man and seeing him glance at the blood, I explained. “It's the direwolf's, from when I stabbed it in the eye.”

One of his thick eyebrows rose at that and he nodded.

“You mind letting him check you anyway? It only takes a minute.” He said as if both accepting and bargaining at the same time.

My chest did still hurt, I guessed it the pain in my chest hadn't all come from being winded.

Nodding once, I lowered my knife to my side but still kept a firm grip on it.

The older man nodded in return and looked to this Glenn who then came forward unhurriedly.

“Well met there.” He greeted in a calm voice. “Just need to make a little skin contact with you for a minute, gotta listen to what your body is saying.” He told me holding up a hand, palm up as if showing it was empty.

Hesitantly I raised my free hand.

“Like Holt there said, I'm Glenn. Holt's the one with the deep voice and the beard.” He added the second part in almost as an afterthought as he took my hand lightly in his.

Speaking casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a strange man and a blood covered boy to hold hands next to the corpse of a direwolf, he continued.

“We're from Moreland's Rest, the town back up the road.” Glenn told me.

“Heard that beastie wailing in the woods a few nights back.” Glenn kept up his casual talk as he closed his eyes and took on a look of concentration. “The fellas here been riding around some when they could, looking out for it, maybe run it off.”

I felt a small sensation come from his hand and a stared at it seeing nothing out of the ordinary, no glowing or anything like that but I could feel something move into my hand, actually into it, it almost tickled it was such a light touch.

“Brought me with them in case someone got knocked around.” Glenn said. “Been out for a few hours today, in and out of the trees. Seen a little wood smoke over the tree tops so we came down this way to let 'em know.”

The feather light touch seemed to hold still over my chest then move about slowly over my ribs. The tingling intensified slightly but it wasn't painful, in fact the pain seemed to lessen slightly but it was still an odd sensation.

I looked up at the sound of someone dismounting their horse to see the back of the fourth man walk off into the woods in the direction I'd come from.

My hand still in Glenn's, I looked to Holt and he must have seen the question in my eyes because he answered before I asked.

“Sal's gone to make sure that fire is put out.” He said, I nodded to him but was drawn back by Glenn's soft voice.

“Good man Sal is.” Glenn said lightly, his eyes still closed. “We were almost here when we heard it start wailing again, came as quick as we could.”

Evidently continuing his quiet recounting of events. “Come round the tree line and seen you beatin' on that beastie, thought we were too late then.” Glenn had a small twist to his lips, it was all the change in his expression of concentration, he looked slightly amused that I wasn't dead.

“How'd you do it?” The thin man asked suddenly, his horse moving closer to stop next to Holt. He was clearly the youngest of the group, sandy blond hair and brown eyes.

The thin man's face was intent as he waited for an answer.

“Stabbed it in the eye.” I said not wanting to mention any use of magic.

“You said that, but how?” He asked almost sounding annoyed.

“I... put my knife.... in to it's eye?” I said struggling to explain how I had survived but it came out sounding like I thought the thin man was too dumb to know what stabbing something was.

Holt made an odd snort then a low rumbling laugh came from him.

Pearly white teeth showed through his thick salt and pepper beard and his blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Full of surprises you are.” Glenn said easily. “Did for a direwolf on your own and won a chuckle from the Captain.” Even Glenn's voice had a faint trace of amusement.

“It wouldn't have caught the trees up, but it's out now anyway.” A slightly accented voice came from the trees as Sal, clearly from the south as he skin was the colour of oak, walked confidently out and back onto the road.

He paused and I noticed that bizarrely, he held my stone bowl on one of his large hands, he looked at the narrow man's annoyed expression and the amused Captain Holt.

“Why is Miller pouting again?” Sal asked, his cleanly shaved head cocking slightly to one side as if trying to puzzle it out. “What did I miss?”