Cedar Sweep nordstjärna

What he witnessed was fascinating, horrifying, dreary — and above all, necessary. The man had said it was a wounded fawn; before Rosenskarm could react to this (aside from an intrigued glimmer in his eye) there was a rush of activity.

The hunter lunged forth; surged, more like it. Grabbed the fawn. Whether it was too stunned or caught in deep sleep did not really matter. It was fragile, being so small. It was weak from its injury. The late hour was a boon to the wolves; and Reyson silenced the life from it before a sound could be made.

It was quick and clean. Rosenskarm was in awe.