''... the other, monster
in the shape of a bear, moves beyond the pale
bigger than any bear, an unnatural birth
called Foul-maw by the country people
in former days.''
''Every nail, claw-scale and spur, every spike
and welt on the paws of that monster
was like barbed steel. Everybody said
there was no honed iron hard enough
to pierce it through, no time proofed blade
that could cut his brutal blood caked claw.''
The fight was going on as the hunters surrounded the creature. It made the roaring noise, nothing on it would move except the rounded paws with a glossy gleam. The glow from the torches showing Foul-maw's teeth barred ready to strike. Many spears and arrows had been wasted to knock the beast, yet none of them would be so enough.
Soon enough Régnwald tossed his ashen spear that was the only weapon that left of him until it was broken into pieces by the bear's claws before it found its hide. It made it give a long roar that resembled a laughter. There he could have sworn the big, yellow eyes of the creature were smiling at him with a look of disdain.
Captain casted his troubled gaze about to see those who have fallen to the ground before the beast. Desperation had engulfed them. It was then his hand touched to something solid and sharp near his belt. It was the gift of Harding, carved dagger that he never had a chance to use.
Régnwald looked to the beast and then to the dagger. So with a hateful cry he ran straight through the beast and leaped upon it, wrestling with him before he raised his dagger in the air and with all strength he could muster, buried Harding's gift into Foul-maw's heart.
It was then, the creature gave a painful cry that echoed all around in Hwitholt. The beast fell dead to the ground, and so its bane, Régnwald fell beside it.
