Chapter 67: 61: Patting a Dire Wolf

“Elza, go keep an eye on our… “friends” as you call them,” you say to the bandit woman while feeding the other wolves.

“Eh, why me?” she asks you while getting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Because they never saw you and if they spot you, they won’t know I’ve sent a spy their way,” you explain. Unless you somehow get captured and tortured, but then, if you don’t return, I’ll know that I’m dealing with someone dangerous, you think to yourself but don’t bother to enlighten Elza on that particular detail.

Kind of grumpy, kind of sleepy, but Elza does follow your orders and leaves the camp to find the four adventurers.

“Guard the camp,” you command the dire wolves. “Feel free to attack and eat anyone approaching except for the purple-haired woman that just left.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

When you wake up it is already bright, a few rays of the rising morning sun break through the branches of the forest and warm your face. After big yawn and a minute or two to come to your senses you sit up and look around. Epsilon is dead asleep and snoring on top of that. Alpha is standing like a statue at the burn-out remains of the camp-fire, and you try to remember if you saw her lie down at all last night. Elza, however, is nowhere to be seen.

Still battling the morning drowsiness, but slightly worried you get up and walk over to Epsilon. You crouch at her side and gently, slightly shake her by the shoulder, “Enough snoring, wake up!”

Epsilon jerks and opens her eyes. You can guess how she’s feeling right now, but you don’t have time for that. You head to the dire wolf leader, laying at the edge of your camp with a couple larger wolves from his pack. Noone of them have blood on their jaws or a torn off, gnawed human limb at their paws, so it’s safe to assume they did not eat Elza, or anyone else while you were sleeping. Still, you ask, just to be certain, “Has anyone approached the camp during the night?”

The dire wolf lazily shakes his head. You note that your communication with the wolves is proceeding surprisingly smoothly. You attribute it to one of the [Submission] spell’s perks, but on the other hand, they needed to understand you in the first place for the spell to work, so perhaps the dire wolves are far more intelligent than their regular wolf counterparts.

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“Alright, let’s go!” your command is meant for both wolves and the bunny girls, of whom Epsilon is yet to get on her feet. “Alpha, get Epsilon on her feet! All of you, remember—for now, don’t attack anyone who isn’t hostile toward us.”

With your entire entourage behind you, you head straight to where the four adventurers should be. After a couple of minutes' walk, you find them right where you expected. They at least did not disappear, no unpleasant surprises there. The dwarf, the orc, the human girl and the magician boy all standing in a semi-circle and facing a big oak tree.

“Oh, William! Good morning!” The bulky green orc merrily greets you when he sees your pack approaching. “Did you sleep well, my friend?”

“I did, and a splendid morning to you too, Gorrazsh!” you say and put on the merriest of smiles on your face, remembering to return back that British accent you did last night for some reason. Maybe it’s the two dozen guard dogs you now have that bolster your confidence, but you find yourself enjoying this little “roleplay” session. “These puppies are quite charming, once you get to know them. You just have to pet them the right way.”

You pat on the head one of the dire wolves next to you. The dire wolf snarls, which isn’t quite the presentation you had intended. Don’t pat dire wolves, you take a mental note and hope that your command not to attack anyone who isn’t hostile, which includes you, holds true and you don’t end up with a missing hand.

“Perhaps the sight through the eyes of a tamer is a different one,” the orc says and keeps smiling. You see the orc’s eyes run across the wolf pack and can imagine him tallying the number of potential threats while a clearly visible drop of sweat rolls from his forehead.

“We did have one surprise last night though,” the orc says and steps to the side, gesturing to the oak tree. You finally see the unpleasant surprise that was obstructed from view by Gorrazsh’s impressive frame. Elza is on her butt and tied up from head to toes with some kind of purple, glowing magical rope. Even her mouth is gagged as she helplessly leans against the massive tree trunk.

“We just found her a couple of minutes ago ourselves,” Gorrazsh explains without waiting for a question. “Apparently she attempted to approach our camp while we were sleeping, but ever-vigilant Cassandor cast mystical protective magic around our camp and caught this sneaking caitiff. We were just discussing what to do with her.”

“Off with her head and be done with it!” The dwarf grumbles through his thick beard.

“Now, now, Mori!” Gorrazsh shakes his finger at the dwarf. “You’re never going to find a wife if you keep beheading every girl you come across! Any suggestions, William?”

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