A deep and long howl broke the silence of the night, before another higher one soon followed after. Pren stirred and sat upright, breathing heavily as he looked about. As he did this he accidentally woke Gwennol who lay next to him, as well as the small lynx kitten sleeping next to her. Unaware of this Pren remained alert, looking about until he felt a small hand hold onto his arm, looking down to Gwennol and noting the concerned look on her face.
"The wolves. Are they close?”, she asked as he looked up to him, the dying light of the fire giving them just enough light to see each other.
"Too close for my liking.”, he grunted out as he looked about once more before he grabbed his axe and pulled it closer to him.
Gwennol sat up some more, gesturing to the fire. “Relight it. It will scare them away if they find us. Wolves do not like fire.” She whispered out, removing her hand from his arm while he pushed himself up and went to the fire. Adding some more small sticks on top before he added some dry grass to the glowing embers, a flame catching and slowly spreading to the sticks.
Pren then went and sat back down in the furs next to Gwennol, pulling the furs that kept them warm half over him again though his axe remained at his side. He felt Gwennol lean up against him and take his hand in hers. “You can sleep if you want to.”, he mumbled to her though all he got was a small shake of the head in return.
"Tell me a story, Pren. It will help pass the time.”, she smiled up at him before he nodded and thought. The story of his father's hound, Helfa, and the wolf that invaded come to mind.
Helfa was a great hound, one of the best hunting hounds in Dunland at the time. It was given to Pren's father, Llew, by the hound breeder of the Boar-Clan. Helfa was a large hound, standing up higher than the waist on most dunlending men and often to the chest and the muscles on the hounds legs were thick and strong, a powerful jaw to match. Swift and strong, he could take down the healthiest of elk with ease.
One day, a few weeks after Llew's son, Cadwgan (Pren), was born and when his wife, Blodwen, was away visiting her family in the Stag-Clan in Lhan-Tarren. Llew and a few other huntsmen had decided to go hunting, though he did not take Helfa. Instead Helfa was given the task to guard over Cadwgan while Llew was away hunting, and the hound did so; taking a place in the corner of the small hut and watching over the fur lined cot that held the sleeping babe.
A couple of hours passed and all was peaceful in the hut. Cadwgan still slept and Helfa kept watching over him. Loud, quick snuffling could be heard, as something padded back and forth outside before a long grey maw appeared through the hide door. Drool falling from its panting mouth, its large pink tongue hanging over yellow and white teeth. A large paw then entered onto the fur covered flooring, before another followed before the rest of the creature followed. A hulking wolf, matching Helfa in size and strength.
It skulked its way towards Cadwgan's crib, sniffing and licking its maw at the easy morsel. Just as it leaned down into the cot to pick up the babe in its jaws, Helfa sprung into action! Pushing himself into the wolf he knocked him to the ground, his teeth digging into the shoulder of the wolf! As the wolf fell, the crib fell to its side and out rolled a still sleeping Cadwgan, wrapped up tightly in furs to keep him warm.
The wolf sprang back onto its feet and crouched, his tail cocked with his lips pulled back baring its dagger like fangs to Helfa. His ears were forward and his yellow eyes were wild and threatening. He then reached forward with his mouth wide open, though he just missed the skin of Helfa and the teeth slammed together in a loud clap, making Helfa jump back a little bit. The wolf then jumped towards him, with his front legs out first; Helfa met him and they soon started to bite and nip at their necks, each trying to pin the other down!
Bits of hair and flesh were thrown into the air, and blood started to pour of out of large bite wounds on the shoulders and necks of the two animals! Blood was pooling on the floor underneath them, and every time they were knocked over and got back up it was smeared over the furs and even on the walls as they were pushed into them by each other. Fierce growling went on and on, until eventually Helfa managed to push the wolf to the ground using his own paws, and with the weak underbelly of the wolf on show, a strong and rightly-placed bite to the throat soon silenced those growls. The lips curled back, hiding the bloody teeth of the wolf as it slowly drifted away in the corner of the room.
Bloody and injured, Helfa sat in front of the tipped cot and waited for Llew to return. Another hour passed before he did so, and with him a dead stag with arrows still protruding from it. Upon entry to the hut, anger washed across his face as he saw the tipped cot, no babe to be seen or heard, bloody furs and the bloody Helfa with wet blood still dripping from his muzzle. Helfa pushed himself up, going over to greet his returned master but all he got in return was Llew pulling his sword from his belt and plunging it into the side of the hound in anger. The dying cries of Helfa awoke Cadwgan, who had fallen back asleep once the wolf had died.
The babe started to wail, and Llew stood up and turned over the cot, lifting the babe who seemed absolutely fine apart from a marking on his head from where he rolled from the cot. Sorrow passed over Llew as he turned to see his dying hound, bending down to console him in his last moments; running his hand along the hounds head and scratching his neck, tears forming in his eye. Once Helfa had finally passed away, he lifted the large hound upon his shoulder and carried him outside and up to his favourite hill that was nearby the hut and there he buried the hound atop, carving into a large stone atop there. “Bedd-Helfa” (Helfa's Grave)
Pren finished the story and looked down to Gwennol, who was now looking rather gloomy at the thought. Reaching an arm around her to comfort her, he looked up to the still dark sky and the still glowing fire; though the thing that made him smile the most was that the howling had ceased.
