For a second, the inquisitor merely stared at the darkness of the wood, lowering his sword as Loka and the werewolf disappeared between the trees. Gregor could hear his own loud, hard breathing and the drumming of his blood in his ears and felt the adrenaline pull on his muscles and tug on his tendons. He could just stay here, by the fire, and wait for the werewolf to tear Loka apart... and that would be the end of that. Not his problem anymore. Back to the way things were, by himself, as he had been for years. 

With a resigned sigh, Gregor cracked his neck and gave chase. He lept over the broken tree-trunks, blinking rapidly to force his eyes to adjust to the gloom. His longsword had tasted powerful blood now and its reflective qualities had turned into an autonomous glow, faintly illuminating Gregor's path. Ahead, he could hear the high-pitched whine of the lycanthrope and wondered what Loka had done to it. Gregor grasped the hilt of his sword with both hands and advanced, ready to strike down the first thing he saw. 

And that was the werewolf. The rimefire on its back was almost extinguished by now, having lost its potency over time, but the glow was unmistakable. Gregor could make out that it was distracted by something, shaking this way and that, sounded more like a dying pig than anything else. Now was the time. 

"In the name of the Emperor and in accordance with the Imperial Creed, I, Gregor Ravenor Nykerius, do sentence you to die," Gregor said, his words resonating in the dark woods with authority. "Your fate is sealed." 

Upon hearing the inquisitor, the werewolf turned around, one of its eyes ugly and bloodshot. It opened its fearsome maw in one final roar of defiance, cut short by the thrust of cold, glowing steel being shoved into its gullet. Gregor had dashed forward with all the speed his legs could muster and planted his blade between the werewolf's gaping jaws. Gurgling, the wolfman sank to its knees and slid off of Gregor's sword. It landed on its side, heavy and limp. 

It was dead. 

Gregor didn't take any chances. He raised his sword in the same two-handed grip and decapitated the motionless abomination with a single strike. Only then did he exhale sharply and stumble back, his hand reaching out behind him to find support against one of the trees. "Loka?" he called out, his voice suddenly hoarse.