Bartuc plowed through the snow in a frantic run, breathing hard as his heavy armor hindered him further through the freshly fallen snow. Fresh blood had been spilled and forced him forward step after step in a desperate attempt to find Ruinil before something terrible happened to her. How would he live with himself knowing it all came to an end before it ever truly began. [color=ed1c24]"Ruinil!"[/color] He roared, hoping, praying, that she would respond, but only silence returned from the empty forest as he marched forward. 
Tracks appeared in the snow, and not human. Wolves. Bartuc growled and kept running, desperation giving new strength to limbs gone numb. No animal would find her before he could get there. No beast would find her heart with him nearby. 
The wolves waited in the trees as they observed the abandoned cottage, the blood was fresh inside singing to them of a meal to come. Massive wolves with thick fur and sharp fangs stalked the way to the cottage. 

Bartucs call was answered by a howl as they rushed to meet easier prey. 
The big man burst from the trees with a roar of defiance, meeting the wolves head on. It was only when he grasped for his weapons did he realize he had left without his axe and hammer. The first wolf caught him in the chest and bore him to the ground, his arm under its neck was the only thing that stopped it from biting at his exposed face. Tense moments he struggled until at last the hunting knife on his belt came free. The howl of pain was cut short as he stabbed over and over at the wolf, his fist clinging to a clump of hair as it tried to flee and snap at its attacker. No sooner had the creature been slain than its brethren pounced. 
A wolf clamped its jaws on his wrist and shook violently as he tried to rise, the knife falling from his hand with a hiss as the fangs drove deep. The other wolf leapt upon his back, again driving him to the ground as the other tore through the steel of his armored wrists but he did not relent. This was a man of combat, born to fight and stubborn as a mountain. His other hand grabbed the wolf by the mouth as it snapped down but he hissed away the pain. With a violent jerk he threw the creature from him and freed himself momentarily. His punch turned the biting wolfs jaw to dust, its teeth cracking under the weight. 
Again and again he punched the wolves as they leapt for their meal but found him immovable and furious, mid-leap he managed to wrap a bleeding arm around its neck and snap it with a grunt, dropping the carcass to the ground before turning to the last wolf. In a tangle they fell, snapping jaws and scraping claws desperate for purchase. His hand clamped down and choked the life from his final assailant.

A long time seemed to pass Bartuc by as he panted into the cold air, his blood and those of the wolves created a foul stench that he ignored entirely. Finally he gathered the strength to stand and stumbled for the cottage where Ruinil no doubt waited. He could feel her presence and her fear at the sounds of combat. How would she react to seeing him so? 
Slowly he opened the door and saw her. Huddled on the ground in a puddle of spilled blood, she lay. [color=ed1c24]"Ruinil.."[/color] He croaked, his throat dry. [color=ed1c24]"Thank the gods you are safe, I woke and you were gone!"[/color] His words were soft, sensing her uncomfort. [color=ed1c24]"You are hurt. Please, let me help."[/color] He dropped to one knee and offered his hand. [color=ed1c24]"I promised to protect you, remember."[/color]