Raising his sword, now stained with red blood along it's blade against the snowy and white backdrop, blood now stained the white, once peaceful snow, a bloody beginning to what was certain to be a bloody journey and undertaking. A wolf had been slain by his hand, the beast had been slammed in it's side by Angriff's Warhorse and promptly dispatched from this realm by way of the sword embedding in it's side. However much the action helped his now dear friend Jorn. He owed the man for his assault, Angriff owed him and he knew he certainly wouldn't leave him to die here in the cold north, a forgotten death to all but this group. The child remained steadfast in his arms, his life would be forfeit if Angriff left to help fight the Wolves encroaching on Jorn, but he couldn't leave the man to whom he owed his life. No, he would run but with both of them or none.
Directing the horse behind Jorn, hoping the man would be able to keep the wolves at bay as he did so, Angriff sheathed his blade and outstretched his hand towards Jorn's back as he called out.
"You won't die here! Now take my damn hand, and get up here!" Angriff shouted, should Jorn take his hand, he'd pull him up behind him onto the horse. Certain his Warhorse would be able to hold the two warrior's weight, and ride as quickly away should the fates allow.
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