“Boss!” Ruf called out.

“Boss, where are you going?” Bok followed behind Wolf.

“I’m leaving.”

Ruf and Bok glanced at one another.

Wolf stopped, turning his head to look back over his shoulder. “I will be away for some time. You will be in charge.”

They both slowly nodded. Sweat was thick on their brows, though not from running.

“…” Wolf stared into Ruf’s eyes, and then Bok’s before turning. “I’ll leave it to you.”

Bok and Ruf glanced between one another again before bowing abruptly.

“Boss!”

Wolf left the pair behind him. They were the strongest fighters in his family, after him. Though even together they couldn’t beat him.

If he had told them about going to meet Tiger they would have probably tried harder to stop him. The last time the pair had faced him…

Tiger was quite the bully.

Wolf though of the memory fondly, as fondly as he could considering how badly Tiger embarrassed the pair. He hid the smile that tried to creep onto his face.

Then a sense of uneasiness flowed through him as he made his way into the forest. He needed to speak with Mother Wolf.

Waiting in her human form, was Mother. She was sitting on a rock, not lady like at all with a leg propped up to a side.

“I know.” She said in her rough, yet soothing voice.

Wolf dropped to his knees and bowed his head. The overwhelming sense of guilt at having her take her human form for his selfish request could not be understated, it shook him to the deepest core.

“You have to do this.” She agreed, nodding her head. She didn’t look at him, instead looking off in the distance. “What will you tell her?”

Wolf frowned slightly and bowed his head deeper. “…”

“Very well.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded and then shooed him away.

He stood and turned his back on her before leaving. He could feel her gaze on his back. This hadn’t been the first time she let one of her cubs leave. Last time two left, but only one returned.

“Make sure you come back to me, dear cub.”

Wolf was far from her now, but his ears twitched. He nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement.

Three women prayed for him that night.

Wolf made good pace for the next two days. He sprinted in bursts in order to keep up his training, and every dawn and dusk he would do some training; either with any weights he could find, or by using the environment.

On the third day the sun beat down like a hammer. In the distance he smelled blood, and his ears twitched at the sounds of metal scraping against metal and muffled shouting and screaming.

He bounded forward and the trees beside him blurred.

The scene before him was chaos. There were two groups fighting one another. Those within chainmail with spears and shields, the symbol of some lord or another on their cloaks. The others wore leathers and wielded sabres, though they outnumbered the heavily armoured guards and danced around them.

‘Bandits and guards?’

Within a step he was beside one of the guards. He struck a foe, those with the leather armour, then stepped beside a civilian and tossed them to a guard before disappearing behind another enemy, tossing him aside against a tree. Within seconds he had beaten down four men and found himself beside a princely looking fellow, holding a blade that had almost cut the fellow down. Wolf was a whirlwind of hope for the guards as he pounced between the foes and brought them down, one blow at a time.

Not long after the sounds of battle fell to silence.

“Ah, dear sir, you came at a most opportune time.” The princely fellow chuckled, wiping his brow with his handkerchief.

‘Red Silk.’ Wolf thought. It came from the far East. Wolf nodded. “It was not a problem, Lord.”

The noble nodded. “I will make sure you are well rewarded, sir…?”

“Wolf.”

“Wolf?”

Wolf nodded.

“Wolf. Of course. I don’t mean to show any disrespect, but what are you doing here?” The noble asked, eyeing him up.

“I am a martial artist.”

“A martial artist? You seem to be quite powerful.”

“My Lord, if I may.” A guard called, looking pale.

“Yes?” The noble snapped at the guard.

“A-are you by any chance…” The guard shuffled from foot to foot. His hand was shaking as he clutched his spear.

“Spit it out, boy.” The noble shook his head.

“The same Wolf from the battles of Caster?”

Wolf nodded.

The noble and the remaining guards stood tall and straight. The noble began to sweat and the colour drained from his face.

“O-oh! Of course you are!” He dabbed at his forehead repeatedly. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

“I was passing by.”

“Wh-where, by chance, are you headed?”

“Digsby.”

“Oh!” The noble stood even taller. “Then allow me to offer you a ride within our caravan, it would be an honour.” He bowed his head slightly, swallowing whatever pride he had.

Wolf blinked. “Thank you.”

The noble grew paler, his smile quivered.