Rain pelted the dark clad hunter as he stood at the foot of the bridge that led across to the southern region of what many referred to as the 'Trollshaws'. He pulled one of the crimson feathered bolt from his quiver, looking at the broad bladed head, the barbs on the back slightly dulled to be harder to remove. The crimson hood raised as his dark eyes peered out across the river, before setting foot on the bridge.
He walked among the shaded brush, careful as to not make a noise. The leather covered stock of his crossbow resting firmly in his shoulder, raised in as the watchful eyes took care to constantly move from one movement to the next. His brows furling as he could not believe the sight before his eyes.
Cynraede approached what seemed to be stone rubble that lay scattered across the ground, but as he drew closer he realized that he had been greatly mistaken. He dropped to his knees as he looked all around, rain continuously pouring down without a sign of ceasing. The young man panicked as he searched all around for any sign or track of the maiden that could have very possibly came this way. He looked up to the sky, letting the rain drench his face, closing his eyes as he listened all around.
Cyn lowered his head as he opened his eyes, looking around the sight of the crumbled trolls that lay around him. He stood as a great smile pierced his face, moving over to where it looked as if two people stood together.
"They must have spoken here, briefly.. Then moved on to the east, there must be a camp near by.." The man softly whispered to himself as the rain pattered all around him. A frown streaked his face as he heard the unmistakable cry of a wolf, followed by many more in reply. They were close, and had his scent.
The brush gave way violently under his feet as the hunter dashed through the foliage. Feral growls and snarls growing louder as he looked for a place to escape the feral pack. He knew he could not out run a pack of wolves, let alone a pack of starving, feral wolves.
Cynraede braced himself and rolled, raising his crossbow up and firing a quick bolt that found its mark between the hatred filled eyes of the wolf that landed atop him, knocking the break from his lungs. The man let a growl escape his mouth as he tossed the body aside, drawing his blades and readying himself for the next attack. He lowered his body to almost a crouch, his eyes darting back and forth to the pack who remained in the woods. It was clear they were circling him, silently watching him from their cover and calculating their next barrage on the weary man.
What only could have been a wolf leaped from behind him, digging his sharp claws into his back as he craned his head to gnash his horrid maw at the mans neck before finding himself being hurled through the air. Cynraede knelt down, a blade still in hand as his back bled from the multiple gashes that now adorned his back. He raised his head, charging at wolf whom held his ground, staring at the man who now aggressively approached with threatening growls and snarls of his own.
The two clashed once more in a fury of teeth and steel as Cyn threw the wolf to the ground, pinning its neck to the ground with his own mouth. Waiting there as the two sat still as several moments went by. He stood, spitting tufts of fur and dirt from his mouth, watching the beasts skulk away back into the comfort of the shadowed woods. He had lost precious time, and needed to make up. He dropped to a knee, retrieving the blade from the ground and returning it to its sheath across his back as he felt the warm rain wash down his exposed back.
A dirty, worn hand reached for the crimson hood that lay on his shoulders, pulling it up over his head and turning back to find the pathway. He was so close, he paused for a moment, looking up as the clouds had parted only for a moment as the rain continued to pour down. He returned his gaze upon the pathway to the road, making his way back to her tracks slowly
