The group made their way through the woods. After several wrong turns and being lost in the darkness, the six young men eventually made it to Clem’s farmhouse as the sun began to rise. No lights were lit in the home and they had to bang on the door several times to wake up the man of the house.
“What do ya want?” Clem barked as he opened the door.
“We got your wolves,” Arlin hitched his thumb to the floating pile of wolf carcasses over his shoulder.
“I don’t recall ordering any wolves, send them back,” Clem ran his hand through the thin comb-over strands of hair.
“These are the wolves you requested we kill so you would give us your cart.” The old man frustrated Arlin and it showed in his voice.
“Oh, those wolves. Did you get them all? I don’t see that big one. I don’t think I believe ya.” The farmer’s gap filled mouth opened in a frown.
“Oh for crying out loud,” Jarik cursed a stream of elvish curse words. “We killed all of those damn dogs just like you asked. What more could you want?”
“Show me,” Clem smiled. “Prove to me that you killed them.”
Arlin sighed. “If that is what it takes to convince you then we shall lead you to the wolf lair. It is bright enough out now that we should be able to find it alright.”
“Just him,” Clem smiled and pointed at Jarik. “The mouthy one can show me where the wolf layer is. The rest of you rest here. You have been up all night. Sleep will do you some good. You can use my bed, Prince Arlin.”
“Thank you,” Arlin nodded. “It has been a long evening.”