Dragoncrest Cliffs Deep End

It was a relief to see that Swordfish had an appetite. It meant, despite his fever, his body healed well. Njord was no medicine man… but he did know that when a wolf stopped eating, drinking, or waking it was a sign of worse troubles to come.

They shared a quiet moment.

The father saw the far-away look of terror in his young son’s eyes.

The roughhewn shudder of his quiet voice.

The horror in his meager aura was almost tangible. The raw fear-scent of lasting trauma.

Njord swallowed. “Aye,” he answered with a breath, the contours of his face hardened with a troubled look. The father scooted a bit closer as if to better shield his son from the outside terrors – an innate instinct to protect.

“Tell me what happened, son,” Njord asks.