Neverwinter Forest as helpless as a stinger without a bee

As if in tune with his thoughts, there was a shifting in the air and a subtle noise about him. Njal turned in time to see a grayish figure emerge from the forest's depths, and at once his old mind flicked back to Russia; he was struck quite suddenly by images of his siblings. Their platinum furs, grizzled spines, rounded faces — and with a dollop of surprise, Njal realized he had forgottten all of their names. This stranger who came upon him looked intensely like one of his sisters, he had thought. As she approached he tried to remember the name of this sibling, but it never came to him.

Hello, the young girl called out, and the old warrior was made to focus on the present, not the past which had begun to disintegrate. She was very familiar in the way that all gray wolves were familiar; yet she was young, perhaps no older than himself when he came to this side of the world. He grunted softly at first, and after a long moment of silence (at least via his own perception) he murmured, Good day, I suppose, but he glanced around at the forlorn forest in his periphery, and wondered if that was a lie.