After wrestling with a spirit, Vaalea made her way to the Prancing Pony. Her normally clean boots were mud-caked for running in the swamps, she had many twigs pointing out of her messy hair and there were large bite marks on her throat that were still bleeding. Yet she didn’t seem to mind any of this while she strode through the town. By the time she arrived at the tavern she was so irritated by her ordeals, that her conversation with poor Bjorstein who just happened to stand there, consisted mostly of wordless snarling. Bjorstein, the man of the Other North, was a bear by spirit and often a wordless snarler himself, so there was quickly a mutual understanding between them expressed in a string of deep wordless growls.
Connwear strode up the street to greet them. In Vaalea’s mind this Connwear carried a spirit of a dog. He had a good, loyal, heart and he was strong and agile, but tamed. There was no fire in this dog’s eyes, when he eyed her disheveled presence with a merry smirk on his lips, ”Did you decide to fight the whole forest or something, lass?”. Vaalea turned to regard him slowly, allowing her eyes to grow wide and wild, before replying with a raised voice, ”Yes!”
She told them what had happened, how she had fought a wolf who was not from this world and how it had bit her. Bjorstein being a religious man himself, quickly understood the seriousness of the matter, stating that there was no place on these cursed lands where she would be able to hide from ’Béma’s hound’ as he called the wolf. Connwear however had a more optimistic view on the matter, ”Well... If 'Bemas Hound' wants to get to you, lass. He can try having a go through me first." Vaalea snorted out a chuckle, highly amused by Connwear’s care-free reply. She knew that this dog only wanted to help, but at the same time he was naive, like all the dogs in this world were. The bears were not as naive and Bjorstein replied to the man, ”Bema’s hounds will rip you to shreds before you can raise a finger Gondorian ..Do Gondorians not know of the Gods, eh?'" Connwear shrugged in a careless fashion, ”Well, if I'm ripped to shreds, at least I'll have bought a few seconds for the fastest lass in Bree, eh?”. Vaalea couldn’t help but to smile at Connwear, seeming briefly less irritated. She sighed dryly, her Westron still coming out with a thick accent, "Conn, it is not yur problem. Just....sit...like good dog.” Her smile broke into a grin as her cold wolf-eyes studied his kind dog-eyes. Everything was a fun game to him, a play, a joke. She surely enjoyed all of that as well, after all the wolves and dogs shared a lineage. But there were some crucial differences between them and whenever she sniffed him she could smell those differences in the care-free air that lingered around him and reeked of yesterday’s alcohol-filled adventures. Connwear did not sit, but instead headed inside the Tavern to buy a drink, his action only underlining her opinion of him.
For some reason he returned some time after and Bjornstein, who had once again grown irritated of the locals, stomped away with a stride of an angry bear. Connwear being a persistent dog, stepped closer to her. "You're the one that called me a dog, lass. I corrected you and said I was a hound. Y'know what hounds are, lass? Calm, kind, friendly." He took another step towards her, "But we're also loyal, protective, and bloody ferocious when we need to be … So, if a spirit's got problem with you, then he's got a problem with me." She stared at him blankly, "Yuu know nothing Conn. This not joke or fun, or 'fight’….Vaalea know what need do. Just do not want do it." She folded her arms across her chest, looking past him with a stubborn gaze. "I know it's not a joke, lass. I know how serious you take this stuff." He took a few slow steps back. "Now, lass, I'm not the best one for giving advice. But what if you just... Defy the Great Spirits, eh?”. She pointed at the bloody bite marks on her throat, ”I did that. It no good.” She growled irritatedly, before sniffing the air around him, as if to remind herself from the crucial differences between herself and him, ”I do not want take yur road, Conn. I love this Spirit. I just not agree with ’im.”
They argued, before he suddenly asked should he return back inside and leave her be. She smiled inside her mind, even though the smile didn’t reach her lips. Like a dog, he asks what he should do, instead of just doing what he deems right. Should I put a leash on him and guide him back inside? Or will he be able to find his way alone there?, she thought, before she replied to his question about leaving her alone, in a cold tone, ”All man stand alone in front of the Spirits Conn.” She looked past him, fixating her irritated gaze on the horizon. He shook his head and stepped toward her, grabbing her upper arms, looking down into her eyes, "Well, not necessarily, lass.”. She blinked at him, appearing suddenly like a child that is about to burst into tears, but she swallowed the feeling, pursing her lips together and staring at him in silence, the many twigs still pointing out of her hair. He hugged her in a fatherly fashion, and she felt like she wanted to tell him what she had been pondering the past few days in the back of her mind. It was because he had grabbed her shoulders like her father often did when she had done something bad as a child and he had wanted her to confess. So as a reflex she felt like she had to tell him. He didn’t truly understand her confession and made a carefree joke about it, in a kind and playful manner. Such was they way of dogs. They managed to turn even the most serious situations into a play, and that was their greatest weakness and their greatest asset, she thought. She however took matters more seriously and she regretted her confession right afterward. She wasn’t used to exposing her weaknesses and she hated him slightly for managing to dig them out of her. In future she would need to be more careful around this Hound. She would also need to find someone with a mind like her own to be able to solve the puzzles that haunted her. Could Tyrgrim be this man? And would she ever find him?
