Veagle Wencher was a man of the woods. Considering that is what his fellow rangers called him and what his daughter and son called him, he never said otherwise.

Strolling around through the woods that were sparse like the ones around the clearing surrounding Hearthcastle was one of his favourite pastimes. As luck would have it, it was also his full time job as the senior ranger of Hearthcastle.

Sparse woods meant that nothing dangerous would be able to sneak up to him and he would also be protected from the sun at high noon. Which was precisely the time right now.

He slowly trotted through the woods on horseback and he let the horse just roam in a general direction until it was time to go back.

Veagle Wencher also loved to hunt. It was also one of the few perks that came with his job. When he heard a rustle among the bushes he was intrigued. Nothing big could have been in there and he was starting to feel a bit hungry.

He readied the knife that he kept on a sheath over his back and halted the horse and whispered to the horse

"Whoa, girl! Shh!! Stay now."

The horse was an elderly mare and was a bit gone in the years but had served Veagle in excellent fashion so far. It halted but didn't keep quiet and was neighing in an uneasy fashion.

Veagle was irritated. "Shh! girl, Easy! whoa! Whoa!" He said once before he jumped off and landed quite silently. A skill that showed from Years of mounting and riding. He gently creeped toward the bush when he heard his horse neigh and stomp rather loudly this time and his heart leaped.

The hunt had infected him with excitement and he dreaded his horse would ruin it for him today and he promptly decided that he would retire the bloody old mare promptly today.

The bush suddenly went quiet and after an eerie moment that stretched seconds agonisingly thin, a brown furred figure suddenly sprung from the bush which Veagle was quite upon at the moment. Veagle swung his sword at the creature that had sprung and he felt the sharp edge connect to soft tissue and felt almost no resistance at all. Whatever it was it was clearly lopped clean in two.

He felt victorious and sorry for the kill at the same time but he was more elated with the thrill of victory to be tainted with morosity. Then he took a gander at the unlucky thing that had to happened upon him. Then he stood staring at the two bloody flopping pieces of furry meat for a good moment until after which the reality of the situation dawned at him.

A goodamn Wolfbear!

A fucking Wolfbear in the thin neck of the woods! At this time of the year! It made not a smidge of sense.

Veagle cursed aloud. Then the horse neighed louder and was stomping ceaselessly.

"Whoa! Girl. Easy! You might just... " before his thoughts had sorted in logical order he heard thumping and a loud roar. A guttural roar that somehow seemed to convey the beast in fury.

The beast in question was without question the mother bear of the Wolfbear. The Wolfbears were not territorial and were nomadic unlike normal bears.

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They were also lightly built but they could be nasty with their fangs and claws and were fiercely protective of their offspring which he just slashed, divided in two.

He heard the sound to his back but he spun around to see nothing then he heard the whimpering of the wolfbear cub.

The thing was still alive! Not for long he knew. Veagle was a proud hunter he wouldn't let his prey suffer like some sick bastard. If the mother bear comes for him right now he would slay it where it stood. It wouldn't be his first. Just he was not hoping for a fight to disturb the peaceful walk in the woods.

He heard the mother growl and snarl but the pits of his stomach fell as he registered the direction of the sound clearly this time. The Fucking bear was above him.

He lunged away from where he stood and away from the slain wolfbear cub. He heard the loud thud behind him and a loud neigh mixed with delirious snarling.

Veagle Wencher twisted to see the Wolfbear upon his old mare and going wild. His horse spun around in an attempt to drop the Bear from it's back but the infernal thing had latched onto it's back and was biting into the saddle in an attempt to hurt the horse but was unable to find purchase.

Veage acted quick. "Lay! Lay! girl down!" the mare was in shock but complied it fell on its knees against all intuition.

Veagle swung his knife which was a good two feet long and struck the wolfbear mother squarely upon it's Jaws and it raised it's claws against the knife. The paws came clean off, as Veagle felt a spurt of warm blood wash over him and he swung again and caught the beast again somewhere along its spine then the thing fell from the shaking and shivering horse.

The poor thing lay in the ground writing and swiping at the air. Veagle Wencher swung hard silencing the poor beast.

Wolfbears were rare, so rare in fact this was the first he had seen in the decade. They were not endangered by any means. They were not native to the light woods around FleetHills.

While they were vicious and fecund. They were actively purged from time to time. Unlike normal bears Wolfbears were not solitary they were usually in a pack like wolves. This time of the year they should be getting ready to hibernate and the cub should have been born whilst the mother wolfbear hibernated.

His thoughts were interrupted by the whimpering neighing of his trusty mare.

It laid sideways and flat on the ground and was panting in short breaths.

"Giddy up!! Giddy up! Girl, time to go!" Veagle Wencher was regretting his folly. His mare had been warning and had sensed the wolf bear long before he had.

His mare was always a bit of a drama artiste. Wolfbear strength was in the numbers. One lone bear would barely do any damage. Veagle pushed the horse up and it stood with a bit of staggering upon it's hind.

He reached into the bag in the saddle and took out a jar which held something brown. He scooped some out with his fingers and applied it onto the wounds the Bear had made.

"Just flesh wounds. Good lord the Bear was clumsy! " Veagle mouthed as he rubbed over the wounds and mumbled something in prayer to the God, Vastermein the old father of the woods. The salve hissed and the bleeding stopped immediately.

The horse twitched in pain. Which was good. Pain means the wound had a chance to heal. It might make a full recovery.

He pat its rump and whistled twice. The mare struggled and broke into a trot. Which was surprisingly fast for a creature that lay on the ground a few moments ago.

"You sneaky!" Veagle mouthed as he tried to grab the horse by the reins. The horse neighed loudly in displeasure.

He brushed it gently and kissed it. On the head. "You be good now. Walk!"

The horse then cantered while he broke into a jog to match pace.

Lingering in this area is what would cause damage. Wolfbears were like blights that would descend upon forests and hunt away all that moved and ate all that could be eated in avaricious raids and there were no structure to their packs and no pattern to their hunting behaviors.

This was a real danger. One that fell into his domain and one that he would require the assistance of the crown. He must bring this to the attention of the king.

He must visit the Castle to inform the king. Veagle chose to live within his cabin out in the woods rather than live within the comfortable quarters within the castle which was allocated to him when he was promoted to senior ranger.

The walls were his enemy. They had eyes and ears and whatnot. The politics of the city made his stomach turn sour in the best of days.

Speaking of the politics reminded Veagle of something. He turned to the site where he slew both the mother and cub. He took the carcass of the cub which had been cleanly cut along the lungs along through the abdomen in a diagonal and the cut had been clean. The cub being tender even bone had been neatly chopped off.

He had to prove things to the court if he expected the scoundrels of the castle to even spend a quarter of a copper coin on this endeavor.

In his youth he had gone on a Wolfbear purge and hunted for months at a time through the winter. Those things would pick clean the entire forest and fleet Hills would be free of game for years to come and those things might hunker down and stay at some corner of the woods only to strike again.

The task at hand was not an easy one. If they played their cards right they might make a fortune in pelts and skins. He knew just the angle to approach this and he already had a person in mind. He had to be quick if he had to make it through the forest within the day. He had to walk a good twenty miles with a wounded horse.

Maybe it was a good thing he had to stop today.

He quietly plotted what he would do as he walked his horse through the woods.