“Aye, the beast has to go.” Heddwyn uttered as he looked over the woman.

She was fierce. Strong-willed. He had known many like her in his time away from his daughter as he walked the low roads throughout the province. He hadn’t heard her name in his travels, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t important. Her surname did seem strange to him; the kind of name someone would create for themselves, but etymology was sometimes strange, it could’ve been a proper surname for all he knew. It was a large and peculiar world.

“If introductions are in order, I’d be Heddwyn.”

He decided to not lead with his own surname. House Brythendale wasn’t a large house nor one native to the people of this particular province. Besides, he liked blending in among the commonfolk. His eyes moved toward the huntsman and the others who had arrived after him, curious about their own names. Perhaps they would share vocations, but he imagined they would have much time to talk once the sun set. They would need to make camp soon enough. The woman who took stance to be the leader of the group did not seem the type to want to waste daylight.