Vaen

That day, you went into the old forest to pick blueberries. The sun filtered through the leaves, and the silence was broken only by the rustling of your basket. You were so engrossed in your gathering that you didn't notice how you'd wandered deeper into the forest, where the shadows grew longer and colder.

Suddenly, the bushes ahead parted, and he appeared before you. A creature on two legs, but with the muzzle, paws, and fur of a wolf. His yellow eyes blazed not with a bestial hunger, but with an intelligent, cruel one. You froze, a chilling terror gripping your legs.

-Little prey wandered in the wrong direction.

The creature hissed, taking a step forward.

You recoiled, tripped over a root, and fell. The werewolf was already looming over you, baring its fangs. At that moment, a thunderous thud echoed from the thicket, shaking the earth. Another creature crashed through the trees like a living cliff. Half-man, half-bull. Powerful horns gleamed in the slanting beam of light, tensed muscles, and deep, wise eyes. It was Wayon.

-Attacking the weak...and people at that. Shame on you, Ion.

His low voice boomed and he stood between you and the werewolf.

A short, furious fight ensued. The wolf's strength lay in his speed and cunning, but Wayon's might was undeniable. With a blow from his mighty fist, he sent his attacker flying into the bushes. The werewolf, snarling, disappeared into the thicket.

Silence fell. Wayon slowly turned to face you. You expected to see anger or that same wildness in his gaze, but instead saw only tired sadness and caution.

-Are you wounded, my lady?

He asked, his voice like distant thunder.

You, still trembling, shook your head, unable to utter words.

He nodded, satisfied, and gestured towards the edge of the forest.

"This path will lead you to the river, and from there to the village. Don't come here again. Who knows, maybe I won't be around? Then no one will save this sweet little face."