In the shadow of the jail wall, Beri paused for a moment to catch her breath. The jail behind her screamed like a spring torrent, and it was only a matter of time before Graeme's guards charged her. "Hurry," Beri said to herself.
The bears were being culled now, the hunters staggering home under the weight of their prizes. The Beorning sped up the slope in the shadows, unnoticed.
The mayor's office stood blocky and impregnable. The wooden gate was lit by torches, and two still guards stood on either side, sweat in their beards. It certainly didn't appear to be an office in peril.
Beri impatiently thought, "I have to get in. The Mayor has to be awoken and issued a warning."
Beri quickly reasoned, "I must go over the wall."
The quick mind and muscular limbs were there: ferociously, almost defiantly there beneath her encumbering tunic.
"Witch." The term lingered in her head. "They call women like me that since they don't have another word."
In a troubled acknowledgement, she bowed her head. "I am heavy... but I must get over the wall," she reasoned with herself. Her gaze wandered over the black, silent street once more.
Beri stalked the Mayor of Bree's walls like a phantom. A sporadic light shone in her eyes.
She was bear-tall, but she was still a long way from the wall. Then she jumped and used the first two joints of her powerful fingers to catch the wall. She dragged herself up with all of her strength. One bare foot reached for the top of the wall. Beri crouched there for a split second, nearly imperceptible. She then sank into the heavy ash on the opposite side.
