Sigurd walked in from the back room, reflecting on the words the old woman said. Fear was in his heart, he could not let some beast eat the small child. He looked across the room and saw the infant, but he looked away quickly. The child was nursing from Runa. His beard hid his blushing from seeing her breasts. He cursed himself for not being braver with woman. As he looked around the room he noticed the boy, Erik, was gone.

“Where did he go,” Sigurds voice was a growl, still finding it hard to breath.

The raven haired Runa knew he meant Erik “He left, when you were in the back, he-“

“He did what” Sigurd cut the nursing woman off and went towards the door as fast as his injured body would let him. The surge of fear and adrenalin made this possible. He though on his furs, still damp from his walk earlier, and grabbed his hand axe. With his weight still supported by his spear he made his was out of the cabin.

The Night was dark, but his eyes adjusted to the dark. The stars and moon lit the woods, but the gusting snow made it tough to see at time. Through the snow he walked, following the trails of smaller human feet. He was light Sigurd noted as he followed the trail that only sunk a couple inches in to the snow. Sigurd sunk close to foot.

Sigurd had to find the boy and quickly. He moved as quicly as he could in the snow, but the cracked ribs hurt and slowed his advance. His arm throbbed as he gripped the handle of his axe. He had to find the boy before the monster in the woods did.

Eirik missed the animal once again. He swore under his breath before tracking the animal once more, but something gave him pause. A long drawn out pause. The footprint was large and twisted around the trees before vanishing again. He nocked another arrow, this time waiting before pulling back his arm. He listened as a twig broke, the heavy footsteps and the silence of the wind. Adrenaline and fear pulsed through his body, conflicting with his determination to keep his breath steady. He raised the longbow and turned around quickly pulling the arrow tight and released, hardly having time to realize what he was shooting at. When his eyes focused again, he spotted Sigurd cutting through the snow. All color left his face as he looked at the man in fur. "I-I thought you were something else..." he muttered, shivering. As he stood still the wind that there was felt more aggressive. Or maybe that was his nerves getting the better of him.

The wind was too his back now, and Sigurd could see the outline of the boy ahead of him. A twig loudly snapped behind him, Sigurd spun scared thinking the beast was behind him. Back at the cabin it appeared as a tree fell. Snapped at the trunk. The beast is at the cabin though Sigurd, and it is strong enough to break trees. Sigurd guessed by the foot prints the beast should stand close to 10 feet tall. He couldn’t trust his eyes in the dark and snow, but he thought he saw something move among the trees from the light coming from the cabin.

A pain hit his good arm, the shock forced him to drop his spear in the snow. As he spun around the warrior dropped to one knee in pain and saw the boy Erik approaching. Twisting his head Sigurd noticed wood arrow stabbed in to his furs, and could feel that it drove its self in to his upper arm.

“Sigurd the unlucky” Sigurd grunted to himself

The boy came up nervous.

“Pick up my spear,” Sigurd grunted, “and help me to the cabin, it’s the least you can do after shooting my good arm. Move now.”

The boy didn't hesitate to follow the request. He quickly pushed himself through the snow, putting the longbow around his neck and shoulder, picked up the spear and helped Sigurd up with what strength his small frame could handle.

He let Sigurd put his weight on him, noticing him favoring his side. "Why did you come out in the snow when you were wounded in such? Where you hunting it too?" It was a foolish question, one that should've been obvious. However, Eirik was young, still fresh from innocence and didn't think before he spoke.

The blood was beginning to freeze on Sigurd’s fur. With both arms injured, and midsection battered and bruised, a fight would mean Sigurd’s death. He didn’t mind the thought of dieing in combat, he knew his time would come, but he didn’t want to die knowing he was the only protector the people in the cabin had. He couldn’t die knowing the infant would be next.

“You have lots to learn boy. For one, you don’t hunt at night. There are wolves, and worse…” The thought of the monstrous beast lurking in the woods. Sigurd didn’t want to scare the child. Fear wouldn’t help them in the snow.

The snow was falling down in heavy wet flakes that melted on contact. It was the same type of snow that Sigurd played in as a child, however he knew this wet snow could mean death. It made freezing easier.

The light of the cabin was warm and inviting, clear as day, a birch tree laid over as if snapped like a twig by the cabin. Large claw marks disfigured the side facing up. Once safe inside the cabin, The warmth washed over Sigurd’s body. He saw the look of worry on Runa’s face. He saw the look of fear on Vana’s. The room started spining, and from blood loss, he once again passed out.

As he awoke in his dream he was laying in snow, though it yielded no feeling... no cold, or string or threat of frostbite. The air was silent, calm small flakes of snow slowly drifted down. There was a wood, almost identical to that near the cabin off to his right, but everything was blurred around his peripheral.

She stood over him, her gray eyes looking into his. Her pale skin seemed a bit lighter because of the gray sky. She pulled back and away to allow him to sit up. Her hair twisted in a braid that loosely hung over her armored shoulder. "Do not worry. It's not your time just yet..." She said quietly. "You shouldn't remain here too long though. You know what is threatening you and the others... It lurks just outside the cabin."

Runa stared at the pool of pool forming on the ground around Sigurd shoulder. The red seeped on to the hard packed dirt floor and slowly soften the rock hard dirt to a reddish brown mud. She let out a whimper, which woke the nameless child in her arms. The red haired boy looked afraid and Vana was trying to calm him down while tending to Sigurds wound.

The sound of another snaping branch silenced the room. Runa knew it was too loud to be a branch, and assumed it was another tree like the one out side the door. She noticed it when Sigurd and Erik came back in.

After a stuggle by all three in the cabin, Sigurd was back on the bed. Runa, Vana, and Erik exhausted and soar from attempting to move the large warrior with out injuring him further. Vana stayed to tend to his shoulder, and the old woman began to sing to Sigurd in a language Runa didn’t know.

The unnamed child in Runa’s arms fell back asleep, so she shut her eyes. It was another long and cold night, she wanted some sleep before the child woke again.

“He is awake again, and looking better, he awoke speaking it was not his time. A good sign.” The old woman Vana said as she woke Runa and the child from there slumber. “My grandfather told me his wounds will heal, and he will fight again, but for now he must rest. He will need his strength”

The sound of claws scraping along the side of the cabin cut the happiness short.

Eirik let out a breath of relief hearing that Sigurd would be well. The fact that the man weathered the snow to find him in his condition before finally killing him wouldn't have sat well in his stomach. Especially since he hadn't caught anything to bring home in trade.

He was about to ask a question when he was cut short by the scraping along the cabin walls. It hadn't been anything he had heard before... "Maybe it's a tree...?" his voice cracked through mid-sentence before he frowned. With Sigurd still in a daze, he was the sole defender. He stood from the table and slowly went to the door. "I'll be right back." He said picking up his longbow and quiver of arrows. He nocked one, keeping the arrow facing the ground before going outside. The snow had picked up and his frail frame was no match to the wind. He pushed through, looking around the cabin before finding the same odd tracks he had found before just before Sigurd had shown up. He looked back up to see if the thing that made the tracks was still around, keeping his arrow tight. He had turned around the side when he realized he was breathing heavily and tried to slow it down. Whatever this thing was, it was big... and bigger than him for sure.

Sigurd heard the scratch and something inside him made him stand up. He grasped his spear in one had and his axe in his other and rushed out of the back room. He stood mostly naked in the main room. His rough spun undergarments being all he was wearing. His runic tattoos seemed alive in the lighting from the fire. The door to the cabin was open; Runa, the child and Vana hid in a corner. Adrenaline pushed Sigurd forward.

The snow was blowing harder and faster. Sigurd could make out Erik with his bow, and behind him he could make out something larger. As the wind slowed down he could see the large creature behind the boy. It stood 13 feet high, and had arms and legs like trees. It had pale grey flesh and the face that looked like a cross between a shaved bear and a man.

With a loud shout Sigurd ran and leaped on to the trollish monster. Sigurd axe drove in to the beasts hip, and he flung himself higher up the beast. He drove his spear in to the monsters back, The monster let out on unearthly scream and tried to shake the spear off its back, but Sigurd held on. Slowly his body started to realize the extreme temperature and pain. Sigurd’s shoulder wound was reopened and blood slowly began to pour down his body.

The sound of the snow crunching behind him was faint against the wind, but he heard it. He swung around, tightening the arrow against he string and released it in a blind panic before freezing to stare at the massive beast. Fear paralyzed him and his mouth fell open. The creature... no that wasn't the right word. Creature signified a rabbit or a deer, this was a monster, and it was staring right at him. As he followed the monster upward with his eyes, he lost balance and stumbled backwards. The cold snow being an unwelcoming as it melted beneath his body heat. What was he supposed to do?

Sigurd came rushing around leaping atop the beast, driving his axe into the monstrosity's hip and using the leverage to fling himself upward to dig a spear into the creature's back. The creature yelled as red started to stain it's dull skin and then he jumped back into realization. He quickly reached for his quiver feeling only three more arrows in it. Would that be enough? It didn't matter at this point... he grabbed one, fumbling to nock it because of his nerves. GET IT RIGHT! He yelled at himself. He tightened it, aimed and shot, before reaching for another arrow with a shaking hand.

The arrow flew through the air and caught the beast in the chest. The monsters arms flung back trying to shake the spear from its back. The cold and battered warrior clung to the spear with all his fading strength. His shoulder wound now he opened, blood pouring down his own body, mixing with the melted now and deep red of the monsters blood. The beast snapped a large branch of the fallen tree. The branch was the same size as the child Erik.

The beast swung the branch toward the archer boy, missing the child. But the swing flung the warrior off the beast back and in to a snow drift. The blood from his shoulder was turning the snow red.

There was a flutter of wings as a raven nestled on the branches. Eirik gasped as he ducked underneath the blow. It missed him by a hair and shook him to such an extent. He looked back up to see the black wings of the woman and the glint of a winged helm. She looked over her shoulder at the boy before he had to blink. She was gone within that split second.

As Sigurd flew off the massive beast, and hit the snow drift, she knelt down beside him. Placing a hand on his shoulder and numbing the wound. "Get up." She demanded of the warrior. She would aid him where he needed it, but this battle would be his to win. She would make sure of that.

Eirik turned away from where he had saw the woman and could see the beast regain it's balance back from the previous swing. It didn't take him more than a second to get that arrow nocked in the bow and taught despite his shaking hand.

"Get up, Sigurd!" This time she pulled him to his feet.