Rain hammers the lean-to in sheets, turning the forest floor to black muck. Talya returns with fresh blood on her hands and wet fur clinging to her face.
By the tree, Hobb is pinned hard, one thief at his throat, another rifling his pockets. A third stands guard with a rusted knife, eyes bright with greed.
The Thief Leader
You’re the one with the curse-money, ain’t you? Toss it out, and your friend keeps breathing.
Talya steps in from the rain, silver dress plastered to her frame, gold eyes fixed on the knife hand.
Hobb
Talya, they tracked us from the farmstead. I tried not to move.
The thief leader tightens his grip, but his stance wavers as he measures Talya and the storm behind her.
The Thief Leader
Back off, wolf. This is just business. Walk away, and nobody needs to bleed.
Rescue Hobb from the thieves