After feeling healing once again course through his flesh, Grung takes Kairon's hand in his now crimson grip and shakes gently. Thank you. Safe journey, is all he says, and then goes back to his bloody work.
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Grung looks at the party gearing up for the crossing, and back at the bevy of wolf corpses in the grass. He looks back and forth, back and forth, then turns to the group, and says. Grung will stay here. These corpses should not go to waste. Good hides, good meat. Then as if it could not possibly brook argument, Grung goes to the timber wolf corpse and begins the arduous process of skinning it. His birds flying to the trees nearby to keep watch.
Grung looks at Kairon then Chillel as they speak words of comfort and encouragement. Looking Chillel deep in her eyes, and searching for truth he asks: You think Grung is real hero? Grung knocked out, and lay bleeding. No hero story Grung ever hear say hero do that. Feeling suddenly very woozy Grung does listen to Kairon's advice and lay back down.
A moment after Kairon's healing magic courses through his body, all of Grung's blood loss ceases. He shakily and slowly opens his eyes with much blinking to adjust to the bright daylight; then he looks around. It requires monumental effort for him to sit up, but sit up he does, and then shews his razorcrows off of him; they fly up to the trees nearby. He swivels his head very slowly looking at the scene around him, carnage, dead wolves, and he was instrumental in none of it. His expression turns very sour, and he speaks slowly and with grated breath. You are great tribe of hunters. Grung is once again proved no good. He says, and you can tell that the hobgoblin is plagued by doubts about his own ability to be a true hunter.
Dolok's magical ball of force slams into the Dire Wolf, but it does not seem to have affected the horse-sized wolf in the least. Grung quickly tries to get up, but the movement drops his guard enough for the timber wolf to snap another quick bite.
The timber wolf's bite slams so deeply into Grung's flesh and bone that he succumbs to the pain and passes out, falling unconscious.
Dolok's ray of fire singes some of the fur on the timber wolf's side, but the damage seems to only enrage the animal as it lets out a low growl.
Two of Grung's razrocrows take off and fly to a tree just on the edge of the path and caw in cacophony, causing the third to come and join them. Grung looks and says, Another wolf hiding there. Then in response to Illiam's question about a dire wolf trophy he smiles and says, Dire wolf pelt show Grung a true hunter. First we kill little wolves. As he says it he steps forward just a pace grabbing his longbow and firing two arrows in quick succession at the timber wolf.
The first arrow misses the mark landing in the dirt in front of the timber wolf, but the second lands solidly in the animals front shoulder, drawing a wild howl of pain.
Grung sends his birds to the nearby trees to watch, then sits down in the grass, removes one boot, and shakes some pebbles and small sticks out of it. Well, Grung get you here, like he promise. Now Grung's friends have to figure out how to cross. He smiles, looking up at the bright sun just past its zenith.
Grung looks up at the trees occasionally, and when Illiam asks his questions about wyverns and their usual patterns and style, he sighs a heavy sigh. Wyverns are very... he hesitates for a moment searching for the right word in common, territory strong. They no like others kill prey in their land. If I take trophy from wyvern's woods, I take wyvern strength. This why Grung want wyvern tail as trophy, it prove Grung strong hunter.
Quiet friends, something not right there. Grung says in low volume, pointing into the trees west of the trail. He grabs his bow and nocks an arrow, aiming nowhere in particular, but scanning back and forth to the west. Then he leans over to Baradim's ear and whispers, we go see what it is?
Receiving more than one invitation to accompany his new friends causes Grung to smile a wide toothy grin. To all watching, there is no doubt that there is a swell of pride and joy inside him as he listens to his new friends ask for his help. To be counted as useful and needed, makes his entire face and body light up, just as, in what can only be counted as a confluence of divine intervention, the sky suddenly brightens from the sun finally cresting the horizon. Grung be very pleased to accompany new tribe to the river. Grung knows a few places where the river move more slow. Grung gathers all his gear and weapons, and some dried meat he had sitting on his shelves. Ready to go? Follow Grung! The hobgoblin ranger says with much excitement at the prospect of traveling with his new friends, to show how good a woodsman and hunter he has become. Haere mai nga manu, kaitiaki! He calls and his birds take to the air flying ahead from treetop to treetop.
Goblin: birds come, guard |