The golden sun slipped beneath the line of the horizon just as the traveler crept past the closing southern gate door of Bree. The stout guardsman brusquely shouted at him to get out of the way, but the traveler gave little heed to him and habitually sought the torchlight-rimmed shadows of the side lane.
He decided that he would no longer hunt beasts to offer as gifts to those he took a fondness for. It had been a way for him to obtain what he thought were valuable yet practical tokens of his friendship, in his derelict manner of living; it seemed that he was destined to never be rewarded for his effort spent, however.
The exceptionally fleshy swine he'd bagged to apologize to the girl for his brutish prying – now filling the belly of her pet.
Her pet bear cub.
The bloody thing can hunt for itself, and he glowered darkly as he thought it. She is damned lucky that it hasn't turned on her. Yet.
A chill winter wind bit through his cloak right then, which sent his mood worsening. Daft girl wishes to bring death on herself, and she'll have it.
He continued to fume as he made his way towards the lower entrance of the Scholar's Archives, where he'd found her earlier that afternoon. She had been sitting on the small stone landing, almost as if she'd been waiting for someone, when he approached her to make amends and offer the boar carcass.
His brooding face softened a moment when he remembered that she'd apologized to him, too, for leaving him abruptly in the woods. And she'd also given him a gift – more smoking weed – which had been an exceedingly thoughtful token.
After they had pardoned one another, the girl asked him to follow her, carrying the swine. She led him well outside town to a quiet forested copse. There she'd called out, and a juvenile bear with a coat the color of hoary snowdrifts bounded out from behind the brush. He'd instantly reacted, dropping the carcass and pulling his blade, shouting at the girl to run. He was prepared to gut the beast at the flick of his bony wrist... but she'd desperately pleaded with him to leave it be.
The traveler grumbled anew at the thought.
She then told him to leave her with the creature. That she would spend the night there, outside the safety and sanity of town. He loathed the idea, since even without the danger of a bear nearby that could rip her head clean off her shoulders while she slept, there were camps of bandits in the area and the girl clearly had no practice with arms.
He couldn't very well manhandle the girl back into town though; at least, not without guards questioning his motives. So he reluctantly took his leave. His last glance backward showed the blasted bear enjoying his free meal, ivory fur darkened with crimson.
Skimming past a slow-moving merchant's cart, the traveler sighted the door to the Archive ahead and moved to a sheltered nook within sight of it. He sat on the frigid ground, leaning his back against a wooden frontage, curling his arms around his legs for warmth.
It would be a long, chilly wait.
