[center][h3][b][color=a187be]Lorenzo of Windor[/color][/b][/h3][hider=Gear]
- Three different cloaks. One black, one brown, and one lavender. (Not including a white one wrapped around Martyrdom) 
- Trusty Bow
- Quiver of Arrows, approximating twenty-five.
- A thick red blanket made by his mother.
- Two bones. [u][i](One chewed a fair bit)[/i][/u]
- The best beef jerky he had. [u][i](4/6 meals remaining)[/i][/u]
- Flask of mysterious beverage.
- Flask of water.
- 20 meters of fine quality rope.
- A modestly-wealthy sum of gold.
[/hider][/center][hr]

[color=a187be]"These wolves... something has got the pack annoyed. This isn't natural!"[/color] Lorenzo remarked as Martyrdom ran back to Lorenzo's side, whimpering as he looked at the cripple with a pair of saddened eyes. It was clear the dog was in a lot of pain. Sighing a small bit, Lorenzo took his cloak off and wrapped it around Martyrdom's midsection, tying the cloak around the dog tightly. It would ruin the cloak, surely, but Martyrdom needed the bandaging pretty decently for a quick-fix.

Lorenzo notched another arrow as soon as he heard the screams of the bard, but he lowered the arrow when he realized that it was useless to fire it off blindly in the bushes. Col had run after the bard, anyway. A cripple losing one of his only defenses was a major loss in his head. For right now, he was occupied with what was causing these wolves to grow so aggressive. [color=a187be]"It's been a few years, but I don't recall these wolves being so aggressive towards anyone unless they were cornered. How... peculiar."[/color]