Neverwinter Forest Baby eat this chicken slow, it's full of all them little bones

History was a weird thing. Mal's life had been anything but uneventful, and to him all the weird little (and big) things that had happened were just normal. They were reality, not some bizarre string of freak happenings as it might have seemed to anyone else listening as he walked along. And honestly, the trio of psychos weren't the weirdest tale Mal could tell.

They said they killed someone and attacked someone else, if I remember right? I didn't even know who the hell they were at the time. Just a group of three had gone past the borders and started to try to camp out -- they were hurt too. Like no normal person goes running into a pack's territory like that, they call at the borders for help. It still seemed pretty straightforward and logical to him. Sure, the pack wasn't the biggest then, but it was still marked territory. They should have asked whether it was one wolf or twelve. I took a chance, turned out it was right... But hell of a lot better than taking a chance facing killers or being mistaken for hiding them. Especially since it turned out to be Moonspear after them. If they'd thought the latter? Mal would probably be dead.