The trees of the Trollshaws, new leaves sprouting out in greens as another season starts. Brown and orange leaves still littering the ground, causing rustling with the wind and footsteps. In one small ditch in the hills, a dim light of a fire glows out in the other else dark woods. Sat there, on a fallen log sits the wild man, Pren. Furs draped over his shoulders though his chest and head free of both fur or leather. A knife in one hand, and a stick in the other as he slowly whittles away the end into a sharp point, even skewering it into the air a few times to make sure that it could stab into a boar or a man.
The creaking of an old cart fills the silent air.. a poorly equipped farmer alongside his wife seemed to be heading away from the Bree-Lands, each of them talking to each other about how the grass where they are going will be much greener. Unaware of the wild man with a bow in hand, a quiver knocked as he pulls back the string and lines the shot up. He stands there, in the middle of the road with a bear mask covering his face.
“Excuse me! We would like to pass!” The farmer cried out to Pren, though the only response he got was a TWING! As the arrow flew through the air, having had the time to line up the shot it landed straight into the woman. A scream shouting out as it hit straight into her stomach.
“Mary! Mary!! Stay there! I will sort him out!” The farmer yelled to his wife, hopping from his cart wielding but a pitchfork.
Pren lowers his bow, dropping it to the ground as he pulls out an axe and growls something out to the man. The man takes no listen and thrusts the fork towards the wild-man's stomach! It piercing the leather and his skin only slightly, in return a fist grabs onto the fork and pulls it whilst a boot kicks the man to the ground. The fork now pointed at the man's throat, the wife now unconcious from the arrow and loss of blood, Pren looks towards the cart.
“Diolch. (Thanks)” Pren growls out, and with that a thrust of the pitchfork sends the man to join his wife. Leaving the fork and the bodies there, he lotted the cart for everything that is useful. Leaving the rest there, in the middle of the dirt track in the middle of the Trollshaws.
