The Servant's Ball

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"It will heal but it needs time. You can't move around too much, try and rest as much as possible."

The wolf Lorelie had just finished tending dropped his grey head back to the ground with a tired huff and closed his eyes as Lorelie stroked his fur before packing her bag away and standing up.

"Make sure you apply this to the wound in the morning and evening to keep it clean," she said as Roth got to his feet and walked over to her. She set a small bottle down beside her patient and turned to Roth, clasping her bag in front of her. "I've done what I can, might you point me in the direction of Rose Castle?"

"I'll show you the way," Roth said simply, turning and walking away, not waiting to see if she'd follow.

Lorelie quickly took two steps forwards before a voice made her stop.

"Miss May."

She looked over her shoulder at the sleeping face of the wolf she had treated.

"Thank you for looking after me," he muttered without opening his eyes.

"It's quite alright," Lorelie said, smiling at him even if he couldn't see it, the other wolves around them could.

"I hope you fix things soon," he muttered.

"Fix things?" Lorelie copied.

"Lorelie May, let us be off," Roth called and Lorelie quickly followed, glancing back.

She had met Roth an hour ago, at the edge of the woods. He had walked with her to his pack. Just like Grey's pack, they made their home in a beautiful grove, hidden away behind ivy and willow trees.

The wolf Lorelie had been brought to attend to, Samson, had been curled up at the back of the grove, cuddled up against two of the other wolves who had moved aside for Lorelie when she'd approached – admittedly very warily. The cause of his problems had been obvious in an instant. It was just like Grey. He had been shot.

"Do you have any idea who shot him? I hadn't heard of poachers lately," Lorelie said as they walked into the shadows of twilight.

Roth snorted at that. "It wasn't poachers," he said, "It was that Huntsman."

Lorelie stopped in shock, staring at him as he walked on. "Leon?"

"I don't know, I hardly know our attacker by name," Roth said.

"But why?" Lorelie asked, hurrying to catch up with him before biting her lip. A stupid question of course, she knew why Leon might had shot at a wolf if he'd seen one, the whole reason he was back was the deal with the problem of who or what was killing the girls.

"My kind and huntsmen are not known for getting along," Roth said simply, "Did you tell Grey about your helping us, by the way?"

"No," Lorelie said, looking down.

"Well, probably for the best," Roth said, "no need to get him agitated and annoyed, he'll only come and pick a fight with us and while our attention is on Samson, I don't want him snapping and barking around our ankles. He can be such a pup sometimes."

"Will you all be alright with a huntsman back?" Lorelie asked.

"Well," Roth said with a sigh, "Either we'll survive or we'll get killed. One of the other, but we survived the last time there were huntsmen in these woods, it's nothing unusual. It's knowing the intention of the huntsmen that's the problem, really, not so much their actions."

"Their intention?" Lorelie copied, "I would assume to stop you wolves?"

"That is one of them, certainly," Roth said, nodding.

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