Emily could see the fires now, flickering through the trees - there was a great warcamp ahead. They must have camped for the night, thinking they were safe with no enemies or beasts nearby. So few knew the truth of these woods, the reason even Emily avoided them when she could.

The truth was underscored with another chorus of howls as Able drew closer to the camp. "Hang on, Ryan," she said the the girl clinging onto her back. "Whatever happens, stay with Able. He'll keep you safe." She was close enough to see the fighting now - the hulking monsters and the brave, foolish men being torn apart by them. As the horse charged through the trees and into the camp, she knickered softly to Able and rolled out of the saddle. 

The horse and his young cargo carried on running just as she'd signalled him to do - his long exposure to his mistress's line of work had given him sharp survival instincts. He would stay clear of the monsters, find someone to hang around, and keep both himself and Ryan safe. No, the real danger was Emily's.

She landed in a half-crouch, planting a knee and a forearm to the ground to check her fall. She rose, unslinging her musket from her back as one of the werewolves turned to snarl at her, tossing aside the mangled remnants of the sellsword it had been mauling. 

The beast charged her just as she brought her gun to bear on it. The lead ball took it in the side and blew a great chunk of meat free, causing it to howl and stagger, its charge ruined. Blood oozed from the wound and matted the monster's fur, but it was not dead.

Swearing, Emily crouched down and began to reload the gun, practiced fingers speeding the ardous task. The werewolf snarled again, began to lurch towards her, blood dripping down its fangs and murder in its animal eyes. It seemed to know with some triumph that the weapon was not reloaded when it was on her, claws raised to strike...

Though perhaps the look of surprise that crossed its face when she pulled the crossbow from her back and fired was her imagination. The werewolf staggered back, the quarrel lodged in its throat. It gurgled, collapsed, and was still. 

Emily turned to look after Able, trying to make out where he had carried Ryan off to. So preoccupied with this task was she that she barely turned in time to see the second werewolf barreling at her. The monster bowled her over, knocking her to her back and causing her to skid a few feet, and then it was on top of her in another instant. She punched hard in its face and attempted to push it off with her legs, but the monster was only momentarily stunned and raked its clawns along her shoulder, making her cry out in pain as it lunged forward, desperately trying to bite at her throat. 

Emily shouted and thrust an arm up, gritting her teeth as the beast's powerful jaws closed around the meet of her forearm instead. She clicked her boot heels together and the blade on her left heel sprung free. Immediately, she drove it up into the monster's underbelly, tearing at it with her foot like a great bird of prey might, the monster leaned back in surprise and pain, howled, and she drove the blade at her wrist into its throat. 

The werewolf went limp quickly, but she stabbed it a few more times for good measure. Grunting, she rolled its corpse off of her and stood up, taking a moment to feel at her wounds. They were painful, but not serious - she could get them seen to when all this was over, provided anyone survived. A few feet away there was a young man, garbed in red as a soldier, pale and shaking in the dirt and smeared with blood. It seemed he was the only survivor of this group. He was staring at her in wonder, and Emily grabbed her gear and walked over to him.

"What's your name?" she asked shortly, offering her uninjured arm to help pull him up. He accepted it and rose - it seemed aside from a few cuts, he was unwounded.

He swallowed sharply. "T-Tobias Kelner, m'am. Crimson Company. Third Lance."

"Crimson Company. Hmm." This was more of a confirmation of Emily's theory than anything - she'd taken this to be a sellsword army, and the Crims were the most renowned in Borea.

Tobias shook again before grabbing her by the shoulders and beginning to weep profusely into her chest. "Oh, bless you," he said again and again, "Bless you, bless you, bless you... they killed everyone, they were going to kill me, but you... the huntress with the hair like fire..." 

Emily pushed him off and peered flatly into his eyes. "Yes, yes, you're welcome. Look, Tobias, it's not over yet. More of those werewolves might show up, and before that happens we need to get out of here. Can you take me to where your leader is camped? That should be safe." Emily also didn't mention that that was the likely place Able, and Ryan with him, had ended up - Able always tended to break for where people were.

Tobias sniffled and nodded. "I-I will. This way!"