The third moon rolled high into the sky, as the group of travelers examined the damage to lord Yestal's carriage.

Tadon the dwarf examined the carriages axle, finding that it was splintered, but in a strange way.

"I'm not sure we'll be able to repair this my lord," Tadon said.

"Ohh dear," the nobleman said in a shaky voice.

"I'm surprised that you and your horses survived going off the road," Tadon remarked.

"Ohhh," lord Yestal moaned. He turned on his coachman. "You impetous fool!"

"Beggin' yer' pardon m'lord," the coachman said, "but I did me very best. Somethin' is afoot ere'. What business do ya' ave' travelin' through the iron forest anyway?"

"Silence!" Lord Yestal said, "I knew I should've gone with my normal coachman. The coward doesn't give me very much lip."

"Eh?" the coachmen asked, "why doesn't he have much lip?"

Lord Yestal groaned in annoyance.

"Would you perhaps like a song to cheer you up my lord," his bard Cyrill asked. "Ohhhhh! My lady lies across -"

"No!" lord Yestal fumed, "Lute music is the last thing that I need right now."

"Ah," Cryrill said, "then I shall sing without the lute. Ohhh!"

"Shut it," Tadon said, "I hear something."

Howls sounded in the darkness of the woods.

"Wolves!" Lord Yedal shrieked, "oh please please save me!"

The cowardly man jumped into his askew carriage before Cyrill could get back in, and locked the door.

"Curse the gods of music!" Cyrill said, tugging on the door. It didn't budge.

The dwarf grabbed a war axe, and prepared to fight.

"Bard," Tadon said, "I hope that you know how to use that fancy knife at your waist."

Cyrill nonchalantly tossed his lute aside, and the cacophony of it crashing to the ground echoed through the forest.

"You idiot!" Tadon yelled at him in a hushed manner.

They heard the pattering of the wolves' paws against the ground as they drew closer.

"I hope you do more than get in my way," Tadon said, "I'm not going to die protecting a nobleman."

"I think I'm going to die drinking in a pub," Cryill mused, "after filling my lute with mead, and I'm going to drink out of it as everyone chants my name..."

"Shut it," Tadon said, "there's still a -"

The wolves struck first.

One of them lunged for Tadon, and the dwarf deftly struck his axe against the animal's back as it tried to flank him. 

But it was only one wolf.

Out of the darkness, a whole pack began to come out of the trees, and descend down to the ravine.

"Okay," Cryill said, "this isn't a laughing matter anymore."

One of the wolves jumped for Cryill.

Cryill squeezed his eyes shut.

He wasn't dead.

He opened his eyes.

The wolf lay on the ground, an arrow shaft sticking out of its neck. The arrow's fletching was made from vibrant turqoise feathers.

The two of them watched as more wolves fell to arrows. Tadon shook himself straight, and then started fighting other wolves. They grew more fierce as more of their pack members fell.

Eventually, the remaining wolves realized they were outmatched, and fled.

Tadon took a moment to sit down on a rock, and take a deep breath.

"Wow," Cryill said with a smile, "I was sure we were going to die, but thanks to my -"

"It wasn't you," Tadon spat, "but it wasn't me either. It was -"

They heard a rustling in the forest canopy above them. A shadow dropped down from the trees, and seemed to almost float down to the ground.

The shadow approached.

It was a girl in a dark green cloak, with raven hair going down to her shoulders. An unfazed expression was worn on her face.

Her most striking feature however, were two blue butterfly wings.