Vilkas scanned the area about him for any sign of helpful plant life. So far the only result was the distant hum of Nirnroot and the occasional nightshade, the latter plant he kept far away from his travel pack.
Vilkas continued to search for herbs but to no avail, there was not even the hint or brief glimpse of the old white oak tree. During his search he came across many trees fitting the description, but not an herb in sight. Though he was diligent in trying to find them his mind kept drifting back to the smaller Nord.

He wondered why Husk had seemed worried about being left with Aela; let alone what the reasoning was at the altercation on the trail. He trusted his sister to keep the younger Nord safe, yet it appeared the feeling was not as mutual. But Husk had let Aela tend to his wounds, if he didn't feel safe he wouldn't have allowed her help. It was just something that Vilkas decided would he would ask about later. For now he needed to search.

Vilkas stopped walking to stare accusingly at a tree that looked far too familiar. A broken branch dangled in the breeze.

A branch Vilkas swore he had broken a mile ago.

A frustrated growl resulted as he realized his mistake.

"I've been walking in damned circles!"

The voice was just loud enough to send birds scattering into the night air. He grit his teeth as birds shot off into the distance. Not only had he been wasting him he could have given his location away. As the stomped about looking for the correct way he caught the sight of a stream as well as a faint green glow.

At least he knew where the sound of Nirnroot was coming from. His brows knitted together as he tried to recall its healing effect. Elriah had once told him simple herbs to use on the road, though that had been years ago. Picking a way carefully through the thick foliage towards the stream, he prepared to grab it just in case. Along the way he fought with bushes and vines that would sneak around his boot as he walked. It was worth it as he neared the plant. The water flowing next to it was clean and clear. The sound and scent of the water made him relax slightly.

Vilkas had barley started to bend down to pick the plan as the sound of distant yelling founds its way hazily though the trees. He quickly pocketed the herb and tilted his head so that his ear was in the air, and began to listen carefully. At least now that the plant was picked it had stopped making its eerie noise. He was certain it was just another person on the road, yelling at something stupid. Perhaps it was another adventurer or a carriage driver who had broken a wagon wheel.

A horrifying howl tore through the air and stole away his previous thought.

The sound became a scream of pain.

Vilkas quickly got to his feet.

"That sounded like a werewolf…" Vilkas whispered as his blood ran cold.

"…Aela?"

Dread filled Vilkas as another feral cry breached the air. He wasted no time barreling into the foliage.

Branches and thorns hit and tore at him as he ran, already beginning to feel the itch begin under his skin. Coarse fur began to sprout and overtake his body. His mind was stricken with fear and he cursed himself for leaving his companions alone, and he cursed the beast within him as it began to come forth. His running slowed as his limbs began to lengthen rapidly; making any attempt at running result in awkward stumbling. Vilkas fell to the ground as the changes became too severe for him to handle.
His hands stretched out before him as they grabbed at the dirt. Their fingers becoming sharp as nails shot out. His breathing hitched painfully as his spine shot upward and his legs contorted into long muscular limbs followed soon by the twisting of his arms and the ache in his neck. His gums and teeth began to itch as they grew within the snarling jaws.

Within moments the transformation finished; leaving a large black Werewolf where the Nord once stood. His wolf armor had fallen off like it was designed to, and now was wrapped around his leg by the fur kilt tightly. His thoughts were as frantic as his beast. His pack was in danger, it screamed. As Vilkas began to run again the noises began to change from the distant whispers into resounding booms and clashing of weapons. He hoped that no one saw him as he dashed across the road. Normally he would make sure that he wasn't spotted, but now he needed to get back to the camp as quickly as he could. Fear and rage pushed him faster. Vilkas feared that the Silverhand had found his companions as the sounds grew louder and more frantic.

He reached the camp just as Aela swung the hilt of her sword into the werewolf's back wound; sending fire lit blood into the air. She ducked a swipe from its paws; using the hilt of her sword to dig into the already existing wound on her opponent. The beast wrinkled its muzzle in anger as saliva dripped from its jaws. A savage unearthly shriek poured forth as it stood up on his powerful hind legs. Strong rippling muscles showed their strength.

Vilkas crouched low as he entered the camp and eyed about for any other attackers. The creature swung his paw out and missed by mere inches sending Aela a foot back as she evaded the attack. They circled each other in the tight space of the camp. The fire still burning behind them just as Vilkas had left it, leaving eerie shadows as it danced across the fighters and reflected in their eyes.

The fires light caught the gleam of metal, catching Vilkas's attention. A silver collar was fitted around the werewolf's neck as it gleamed; now stretched and protecting the tender flesh of the throat from attack. Vilkas could only stare in awe and confusion as he realized who it was fighting his sister.

The little Nord was not so little anymore.

It was the first time Vilkas had seen Husk basking in the beast blood, let alone the first time he saw him fight. It was not a sight he ever expected to see. Husk twisted and turned as he fought, clashing sword and shield with claws and teeth.

He was truly basking in the blood in every sense of the word.

The beast turned as the fire caught the subtle glistening of a burn creating the appearance of a grotesque monster while fangs shone dangerously. Husk's fur was a mix of browns that would dip into shades of pale red and mingled with splatters of blood. A stripe of the color began at the scruff of his neck and trailed down into the fur on his tail; displacing there and merging with the browns. Scars lined the wolf's body though were hidden below the mass of knotted fur making them difficult to see; all except for the large burn that stretched heavily across his face. It covered his eye yet unlike in his human form it rendered the eye useless as it was almost burnt shut; leaving it a shining slit among the red flesh.

Husk's frame was small and emaciated yet there was no doubt in the power of his muscles that were moving rapidly under the bloodied fur.

Husk was bleeding from deep gashes on his long narrow muzzle and above his non burnt eye. The smell of fear and hatred was stronger than any other scent, even stronger than the blood that littered the ground in large crimson pools.

Blood dripped into his unfazed eye, clouding his sight.

Husk was rapidly blinking to clear his vision; never letting Aela out of his sight. He stumbled as his foot was caught up in what used to be his clothing. He kicked it off quickly, but never broke eye contact with Nord woman in front of him. He snarled and showed pointed yellow fangs and Aela snarled back.

Aela had smaller wounds on her left side that dipped down onto her leg likely from a swipe from the blind werewolf's claws. Her Companions armor had kept her intact as it took the blows rendering attacks to only leave long scores on the metal instead of her flesh.

Vilkas stared at the jagged claws, amazed that they were even there as they once again created deep lines on the steel.

Vilkas was confused on how the fight even began as he took in the bloody scene. No Silverhand lay dead nearby nor was even the scent of bandits present.

He desperately tried to think of a way to stop it. His mind was a blank as he watched Husk snap at Aela's blade, only to block a hit moments after with a raised paw. Aela swung her sword swiftly again; this time at his muzzle. The blow landed, leaving another good sized slice. Husk returned the favor by swiping at her again with his claws as he howled in pain. Aela barely avoided the move as it scraped her armor creating a terrible sound as the metal shrieked. She retaliated by launching herself and her blade at him.

Vilkas did what he could think of first, and went to the other werewolf to try and pull him away from Aela's swinging blade. If he grabbed Aela that may leave room for an attack by Husk, he could easily attack the both of them and Vilkas would be left with only seconds to react. He would rather take his chances with Aela hacking him with her blade than the snapping of another werewolf's jaws.

Vilkas leapt from the bushes and flew towards Husk. He attempted grab Husk's scruff as he quickly closed the distance between them. Husk had been too focused on the Nord in front of him to hear the other werewolf coming from behind. He snarled fiercely as teeth grabbed at his fur, turning on the new assailant.

Vilkas did not expect Husk to suddenly turn on him, or to snap at his neck. Husk either did not recognize him or didn't care as he tried to bury his teeth deep into the Companion's jugular. When the attack failed Husk bared his fangs again and snapped hard at Vilkas's shoulder. Vilkas knew the intent behind the move. It was to tear and disable his arm, leaving him open for attack while being be left with little defense.

He shoved the beast away quickly putting distance back between them.

A deep growl rose from his throat angrily as he kept the beast at bay. Husk was an experienced killer who knew quite well where to bite. Husk returned the growl just as deep, viciously signaling he would not back down. Vilkas's hackles rose higher as a trickle of fear crept into his human mind. He wondered whose fear he had smelt in the field after all.

This killer was the lad he had freed, but there was little left of the pathetic Nord now.

Vilkas dodged another bite from the other werewolf as it leapt and had no choice but to return his own.

Struggling to avoid Husk's jaws Vilkas bit back a yelp as claws sliced deeply into his skin. Husk had gotten him in the ribs with a hard blow. It was easier to hit a larger werewolf target than it was to catch the smaller Nord. He felt his own blood seep into his fur as he continued to try and grab the other wolf to subdue him. Vilkas saw no openings leaving him with the only one option. Rule be damned, the werewolf needed to be stopped.

He had to trying to trick the wolf into giving him an opportunity.

Vilkas backed away from the other werewolf and began to circle him. Husk did the same, all the while growling and raising his lips in a snarl. His once kind soft eyes were now fierce and filled with primal instinct.

Aela stood to the side panting and forgotten as her brother fought in his beastly form. Her own beast itched under the surface but she knew better than to call upon it. She prepared to jump in again.

Vilkas's dark fur clashed against the red of Husk as the two fought. Claws and teeth shone almost white from open maws and large powerful paws. Husk might be quick and lean but Vilkas was powerful. Aela watched as the two danced about as they fought, proud powerful beasts filled with instinct and their beast blood. Aela could only imagine what Husk was like without the silver keeping his strength in check.

Vilkas stood up straight as he returned the growls and vicious snarls. As he stood he let his own neck be open for attack. Husk gave a frightening howl and fell for the bait, leaping towards the Companion. Vilkas saw his chance. Quickly he dipped his head as Husk went for his throat. Without a moment to spare he clamped his own jaws on the scruff before violently slamming Husk into the ground. The silver burned his muzzle from the contact. Vilkas heard the werewolf exhale sharply before becoming still. His beast blood was boiling, angry at the altercation with a fellow pack mate.

Once he realized that there was no escape, Husk relaxed in submission to Vilkas. Vilkas's wolf beamed proudly at this, clearly the stronger wolf.

The werewolf's eyes darted around though he stayed still under Vilkas's jaws that held him in place. The werewolf seemed to realize that the fight was over; he had lost, and knew exactly who was now holding him down.

Aela approached the werewolf; putting the blade to his neck. Vilkas growled at his sister in warning.

"Husk, I know you can understand me. Change back or else I will be forced to kill you."

Husk did as he was told and began to shift back into his human shape.

Vilkas was taken back at the realization of what was happening. Husk could will, and was willing his own change. He did not have to wait for the blood to die down like the others of his kind. In the surprise of the moment Vilkas forgot that he was holding what was now becoming human Husk's head and shoulders. Quickly he opened his jaws, releasing the shivering body from his grasp. Vilkas could feel his own change nearing as his muscles tired.

Red fur ebbed away, falling about him as he took a more human shape. His large clawed paws were now becoming flimsy nailless hands. The burn on his face became less pulled as it fitted and took form on a smaller face. Husk fell forward as his powerful legs began to wilt into pale scared limbs, leaving him resting on his now forming knees. His eyes were closed as sizzling metal began to shrink, though no pain showed on his fully formed features.

Husk had lost. He accepted his defeat and waited for what would come.

Once the transformation was complete a nude and shivering Husk was left kneeling in the dirt. He was out of breath and trembling from exhaustion. He did not appear to notice or care about his lack of clothes. The scent of burning flesh filled the air as the collar fitted itself, burning its way onto the skin again. The wounds from his fight carried over as well and were bleeding heavily.

"Look at me Husk," Aela commanded.

Husk did as he was told and met her eyes. He glared at her accusingly though said nothing; using his remaining energy to focus on breathing steadily. Husk continued to blink as blood clouded his eye, though the look of accusation never left. She had lost his trust, and he made that clear. If he felt hurt emotionally he gave no hint, instead making sure to show he would not bow down to her now or ever. Her words had gone too far for him to forgive. He looked at her as he had once done to the corpses of his captors.

Aela glared back, and replied with one sharp kick to the man's head.

A horrible sound was heard as her steel boot met his skull.

Vilkas was shaking with fury by the time he had changed back into his own human form. His change had begun as Husk had fallen. It took longer than the initial changing had been, feeling like hours to as he waited for his body to return to normal size. As he changed Aela grabbed some rope from her bag and tied it around Husks arms and legs. Aela told Vilkas what Husk had informed her as she doused the fire and packed up their supplies.

"He's their hunter. The only reason they kept him alive was to track down packs for them to exterminate." Aela scowled as she continued to get ready to leave. "He's borderline feral when transformed. It's a wonder how they ever had control over him. Either way it's no concern of ours now."

Vilkas felt his heart drop as he listened. His change reached its end as Aela continued to tell him her findings. Husk was unresponsive at Vilkas's feet, unconscious and bloody. His wounds dripped, making his small frame look even more brittle as the white skin became stained.

Vilkas's hand rose to his slashed chest, thankfully finding the wounds to be shallow. They had not crossed over as deep as they had been; making him thankful for the small miracles his blood bore. Thick blood covered his hand as he pulled it away. Vilkas listened and heard of the things that had happened to Husk. To be taken when he was but a child, it sent a shudder down his spine. He dressed quickly.

Vilkas went to kneel to check over Husk but was stopped midway by Aela. Her voice was as cold as her eyes as she stared him down.

"I don't know what you think you're doing. He's worked for the Silverhand and I will not risk Jorrvaskr getting pounced on again by them. Leave their pet here, and let's go. He may seem innocent now but for all we know it is an act. He can turn feral at a moment's notice."

Any hope she had of using Husk was now dead and gone. There was no way to train a full blooded werewolf who could suddenly become feral, there was too much risk. Had there been trust there would have been a chance, but now that trust was gone and would take far too long to regain.

Vilkas stood back up before confronting Aela with as much calm as he could muster.

"We both know who started that fight Aela. He was already injured and you provoked him, no, interrogated him! What did you expect him to do?" His effort at calm did not make it far as he finished his sentence with a slight hiss in his voice.
Aela glared at the crumpled form of Husk before responding.

"We both saw how he acted towards you when you tried to intervene, and I know you saw how we fought. There was no innocent halfblooded in that beast, only a trained killer." Aela looked her Shieldbrother in the eyes as she continued. "He's a threat Vilkas, pure and simple."

Vilkas was about to argue but was cut off.

"Either we leave him here and give him a sliver of a chance or we take care of this how we should have back in the cell. We tried our best to do right by him Vilkas, but there is too much of a risk. We can't risk bringing him home to turn on our shield-siblings."

For a moment nothing was said as Vilkas turned to look at Husk, mouth pulled into a grimace as he thought of what to say. The quiet was as thick as the air polluted by the smell of battle. He appeared distressed as he tried to come up with an argument to defend Husk; concern clear to see.

"I know what you mean Aela, yet…"

Vilkas's argument died in his throat as he looked back at the body. New words formed in their place.

"…We killed the Silverhand, there's no one that will come after him. I'm certain if he's not forced it would never lead to this again."

Vilkas sounded pathetic and he knew it. A proud warrior of the Companions who had killed one of everything was now trying to pardon the actions of the lad who had just tried to kill him and his sister. He hated the way he had instantly defended Husk, Aela was right and he knew it. Husk's other side scared him, but to kill him or abandon him scared him more.

Aela shook her head at his reaction; it was not like her Shieldbrother to suddenly attach himself to another; nor was it for him to show emotion so plainly. In her mind that sealed Husk's fate. She could not risk her brother and her home for one ill-fated stranger.

"I'm sorry Brother, but there is too much at stake. You need to accept that Husk a threat."

Vilkas nodded solemnly as he scowled. Vilkas snarled in frustration and began to scrub his face with his hands to rid himself of the sweat from his brow. He had seen them fight, and he knew now that Husk was more than a helpless lad; no matter how broken he looked. But Husk was barley passed being a child, he had yet to even begin to taste freedom.

Vilkas felt a hand on his shoulder guiding him away from the scene. Vilkas glanced at his Sister sadly and muttered an agreement. Aela patted his shoulder in a brief act of comfort before leaving to collect her bags.

Husk's face was pale, making the burn stand out even more. Vilkas pressed his lips into a fine line. How could such a small Halfling be as fierce as a beast? Had the Silverhand really gotten into his mind so much they had shaped him into a tool of death, and controlled his actions even now?

Husk exhaled slowly while he lay bleeding on the ground. His body relaxed fully into the dirt.

Vilkas felt his heart stop as the lad became a corpse before him.

His mind went blank as he processed the still shape that might have just died before him.

Vilkas found himself checking for a pulse franticly as he moved the body so that it was lying on its back. Dirt clung to the blood on Husk's skin and had found ways into the wounds themselves. Vilkas pressed his ear into the chest listening for any signs of breathing. The sound of his heart roaring in his ears overpowered any other noise.
Vilkas took the scarred hand in his own as he searched the wrist. There would be no way to check his neck due to the collar for a pulse that he wasn't even sure was there.

Vilkas sighed in relief as his fingers found a minute rhythm under the skin. Aela stood behind Vilkas as he carefully began to place the hand back down by Husk's side. Vilkas did not want to let go of the smaller hand as he looked at the bruised knuckles.

Burns from the silver bars had left scars on his palms. He had tried to escape; the burns a clear sign of that. Many of the burns were layered; some looked as if he had grasped fire itself trying to escape. Vilkas knew as soon as he would let his grasp slacken that Husk would be left for death again. There had been so much trust the boy had put in him when he first stepped into the cell, the look of thanks from the braid he had gotten had said as much, as well as the surprise when he had received the gift of a meager bedroll. Vilkas's heart hurt at the thought of betraying that trust by leaving him to die.

Aela placed a hesitant hand on Vilkas's back, but before Alea could speak he shook her hand away.

"I will not leave him to die, though I agree that he is a risk." Vilkas continued with a steady voice, ignoring the look of irritation burning into him. "If he is as much of a threat as you say then I will put him down myself. If not he will attempt to return to Jorrvaskr so we can try and help him fit into society again. The only reason he acted out was because he was provoked and unless he does it on his own for no good reason he is not a threat."

The stubborn look he sent to Aela only fueled the fire as she began to argue more.

"Vilkas. That thing could very well lead the Silver hand to us. Do you want a repeat of what killed Kodlak? Do you want to lose another Companion just because you tried to save a stranger? What if our new Harbinger dies too, what will you tell your brother? That you killed his husband to try and play charity to a random Silverhand?" Her voice rose steadily as she yelled.

Vilkas ignored her and plucked Husk off of the dirt as gently as he could to keep from making the wounds worse, grunting from the effort. It had still been quick as he moved with agitation. The words stung but he kept the pain at bay. He needed to focus on Husk now, not his sister.

Aela frowned and continued to argue, but to no avail.

"He did what he did while cornered by them, Aela. He has no reason to do so now."

He shot her a glare before mumbling under his breath.

"I hope you are happy now that you've forced in injured person as well as your own shield brother into becoming such a beast."

Vilkas had said the words with such venom that it actually startled Aela, who began to argue again, but stopped as Vilkas began to turn to walk away carrying the lad.

"If you leave Vilkas I will not follow. I will not help a killer or my own brother if it means losing more family to them."

There was no reaction.

She watched her Shieldbrother leave without even a look behind him, only stopping once to grab and throw the new bedroll and his bag over his shoulder. Vilkas left the camp and Aela could do nothing but treat her own wounds, as his choice had been clearly made.

Vilkas had left Aela behind.

Guilt tore at his heart while pain helped tear apart what little he had left. He had made his decision. He had chosen the stranger over his sister that he had fought beside for most of his life. For a ways there was just silence, there was no one else on the road. The quiet rang is his ears just as her words had. If he turned back perhaps he could mend things, and divines help him maybe even convince her to help give Husk another chance.

As if the divines had heard his thoughts the sound of steady footsteps fell behind his own. Vilkas paused to let Aela walk besides him. Her eyes were still cold though now burned with the hurt and betrayal that she felt. He could see her wounds had been cleaned and dressed as the bandages poked out from under her armor. They were superficial and posed no threat. Her stance was strong as she walked besides him, eyes straight ahead and on the road.

"I did not mean to attack you Brother. I am sorry for what I said. I know you would never let harm fall onto another Harbinger."
A sad smile pulled his lips coaxing another in return. It was forgiveness that need not be spoken, but pressure and unease still hung between them.

"…You were correct, what I did was wrong though it was necessary. I know you understand that."

"Aye."

Aela bristled though bit back another cruel remark. Vilkas was not mad at her and that was clear to see. His eyes were also uneasy, plagued with doubt as her own were now as they both glanced down at the body he was carrying.

"…Did you really mean it when you said you would put him down should he act out again?"

Vilkas nodded, "Aye, and I would without a second thought."

Aela was unsure if she should feel relief at this or dread. He was not going to leave Husk behind, but he also wouldn't let him attack again.

"Aela," Vilkas began as he shifted Husk in his arms. "Would you accompany us back to Jorrvaskr? It is a lot to ask, I know, but there's something that tells me there is a chance for Husk. I may not trust my wolf but I do trust my own gut, and its saying to help him."

"You don't trust your own wolf but you'll trust a stranger that attacked a fellow Companion," Aela sneered. Disgust filled her voice though no anger followed. "I wanted to help Husk as well but my own gut tells me that something is deeply wrong with him, something dark. If we brought him back that darkness could swallow us whole. It already seems to have you snagged. I will not risk my home for a monster, Vilkas."

"Then I wish you well on your journey home. I'll take my time returning to wait for Husk to either heal or pass on before proving he's not as dark and menacing as you say."

Aela's eyes squinted in betrayed and worry as she to walk with Vilkas for a little ways more.
"Is there a way to change your mind and make you see reason?"

Vilkas did not respond and fell silent as his sisters eyes bore into him. It had been a brazen move to choose Husk in the first place but now he had dismissed the instinct from a companion whose gut had saved himself and others many times before. Aela was in tuned with her beast and her instinct was always one to listen too.

Vilkas let her pass him without another word or look of acknowledgment. He did not see his sister turn around farther down the trail in a last hopeful effort before she vanished down the next hill.

Vilkas still held the unconscious body of Husk carefully and was thankful that he was light, sparing his arms from strain. He had covered up husk with his miner's shirt, pulling it over his torso and leaving the ropes still around his wrists. Husk's pants had not survived the transformation. It had been awkward but he would much rather carry a partially clothed man than a nude one. The shirt had been a bit too long on him anyways, so it still covered him well.

Aela had not spoken of it though he was sure she disliked that too.

Vilkas mauled over what Aela had told him from her interrogation. How Husk had hunted and tracked down werewolves, as well as the other more personal details that made his heart ache for him. He thought about how the lad he held was not a true Nord, and of the beast blood he had been born with.

He understood why his sister had vouched to leave Husk behind, she was worried for the safety of the companions which was by all means justifiable, but he could not just leave Husk like that. Reluctantly he acknowledged that he would have come to the same conclusion and decision that she had if in Aela's place. It still didn't make it right though. He had meant what he said about dealing with it himself if Husk was a threat and that should have been enough. He tried not to dwell on that thought.

Vilkas shook his head, focusing on a safe place to relocate camp for the night.
His intentions were to still return to Jorrvaskr with Husk once he was well enough, as well as to confront Aela on her methods. Vilkas hoped by then he could repair some damage that had been done, physically and emotionally as well before bringing him to the mead hall.

"Elriah might agree with Aela and have my head, but that's a risk I'll need to take. With your fighting style and knowledge of the Grey-feet you could be useful; Elriah won't turn that down. If nothing else Farkas did say Elriah was a bit of a sap for sad stories." Vilkas mused aloud.

Husk did not respond.

"You'd best wake up soon, Husk. I don't feel like carrying you all the way back to Jorrvaskr, you hear?"
Yet again Husk did not react to the humor.

Footsteps slowed to a complete stop as ill pitched voices singing loud and off-key. The sound was horrible, but there was no doubt where it came from. The men sang a typical tavern song that clearly described how much they enjoyed the women who would frequently trade fun for gold. Vilkas would be lying if he said he had not once sung that song himself at the Drunken Huntsmen just weeks before.

Hear me prelate most discreet
For indulgence crying:
Deadly sin I find so sweet
I'm in love with dying.

Every pretty girl I meet
Sets my heart a-sighing:
Hands off!
Ah but in conceit
In her arms I'm lying.

Carefully he put Husk down at the base of a nearby tree, propping him up against it. A grunt of pain escaped Husk's lips from the movement yet he did not awaken. Vilkas waited for a brief moment to ensure that Husk was alright, as well as he could be in his state, before standing again. Following the sounds of voices and quickly found himself lead to a small bandit's camp, filled with three drunken men.

His intuition had been right, only bandits would sing so brazenly about such things on the open roads.

Vilkas scanned the area as he hatched a plan. The camp had a small tent and a fire, as well as adequate supplies stuffed into crates strewn about the grounds. The site rested on the bank of a river where a small fishing boat was tied to a bush. He eyed the men, weighing the possibilities before drawing his sword. It was still dark so he would have the element of surprise on his side. The drinking had clouded their minds as well, leaving little room for the basic thought of them staying discreet. He could not think of a way more perfect to release the stress and anger he held.

After looking back to make sure Husk was still where he had left him, Vilkas leaped out of the bushes. He gave a battle cry as he attacked. One of the bandits was killed as he cleaved the head from its shoulders. The other bandits had no time to react, instead yelling in drunken surprise. One tried to put up a fight but fell straight onto their asses just from trying to stand too fast.

The camp was cleared out in a matter of minutes.
Nothing was easier than dealing with drunken bandits.

Vilkas drug the bodies to the river to let them float away in the current, ridding himself of the evidence and also making sure that Husk would not awake to corpses in their camp. He felt no remorse for killing bandits; he had probably prevented the killings of innocent lives by ending the thugs now.

He looked around to ensure that there was no trace of other bandits that had left before the fight, lips curling in disgust. Empty Skooma bottles littered the ground, and some had been crushed underfoot. Glass shards were kicked out of the way and into the bushes as he did his best to clear the camp. Next he unfurled the bedroll from his bag inside of the tent after making sure no shards had found their way into the quarters.

Once he was certain the camp would be safe Vilkas went back to fetch Husk. The lad was still where he had been left and his shaking had begun again, much to the Nords dismay. Carefully he slipped an arm behind him before using the other arm to support his legs. Husk's lips were parted as he breathed; and as Vilkas began to lift him a groan of pain slipped from them.
A small apology was muttered by the Companion as they made their way back into the camp; laying Husk carefully inside of the tent on his stomach leaving the gash accessible after pulling up the shirt.
Aela had been right, there indeed was an infection but now dirt was in the wounds as well. The skin around the wound was bright red with the slightest of yellow streaks as pus began to form. If it didn't get cleaned soon there would be little chance for Husk's survival.

Ropes still held fast to Husk's wrists and ankles. Vilkas pulled out his dagger and put the blade to the ropes, but paused as a thought crossed his mind. Aela had been right when she spoke of Husk being a killer; he had done many awful things if what she said was true. There was little reason to doubt his sister. Yet he hoped that she was wrong and that he hadn't chose a monster over a fellow Companion.

What if Husk turned again and decided to make good on his earlier attempt? He was more injured now than before and Vilkas knew he could take him.

With a quick motion the ropes were cut and tossed to the side.

"It's not like those would slow you down anyways," Vilkas spat under his breath.
After Vilkas was certain the lad was safe to leave alone again he went about the camp to look through the supplies. He found a sewing needle as well as thread that could be used for stitches and came across a pair of loose pants that would hopefully fit Husk.

Vilkas sneered down at the needle in hand while the other weighed the spool of thread. He had never been overly good at patching up others, but he understood the basics. It was either try to mend the wound or let nature do the rest and free Husk to the ever waiting hunting grounds. It was where he would probably want to go anyways.
With a frown Vilkas went back to the lad and knelt beside him with a rag and began to work on cleaning the wound. Soon after he threaded the needle and put it against the skin, thankful that Husk was still unconscious.

It was almost six in the morning when the Doors of Jorrvaskr slammed open, waking up almost every Companion. If the doors hadn't woken them, the sound of Skjor yelling for a healer did. Downstairs the noise had reached the far back room of Jorrvaskr and busted in through the large oaken doors. Elriah sat up in bed as the calamity woke him. Furniture being moved out of the way sounded down through the floor boards.

Groggily he shook Farkas, who had been sleeping deeply beside him awake before reaching for his armor. The Harbinger got dressed as quickly as he could manage while sleep still clung to him. Farkas was changing just as fast as his husband once he realized something was going on.
More yelling found its way into their room as they hurried.

"That doesn't sound good," mumbled Elriah.

He hoped it was just another fight among the companions. He knew better than to hope that as he heard the others run upstairs. Sounds of gasping followed by cursing came from above.

Farkas growled his reply as he finished fashioning his armor. "No, it doesn't."

Elriah flung open their bedroom door as the pair ran down the hall and hurried up the stairs.

When the Harbinger walked into the main hall, his heart stopped. The Companions were all gathered around someone in the middle of the room. There was a thick stench of blood and sweat in the air that became drenched with anxiety. Farkas came up behind him, stopping abruptly as he realized the same thing his husband had. His brother was nowhere to be seen. The look of worry on his face broke Elriah's heart, but there was more to worry about right now than just his husband.

There was a small trail of blood from the door that led to a single wounded companion. Aela was now being bandaged by Tilma who was grimacing from the sight. Aela was covered in deep scratches and jagged bite wounds. Skjor had pulled out a chair for Aela to sit down, and that is where she now slumped. Skjor anxiously asked her what happened but was answered only with silence. The other companions filled the remaining room, standing around watching with furrowed brows and worried faces.

Tovar was the only one who seemed barley affected by the sight, and instead focused on looking outside for the missing companion. The preference of his Siblings did not go unnoticed.

"You won't find Vilkas out there. He's caught in the Silverhands snares with a damn war-dog," Aela spat as Tovar reached for the door's handle.

The sound of Farkas's voice made Aela scowl and advert her eyes away from the drunken companion who now leaned against the door.

"What do you mean my brother isn't out there? Where the hell is he then and why didn't you bring him back?!" Farkas demanded.

Elriah sympathized with his husbands worry as he put a hand on his shoulder, bringing Farkas back from his rage. He was worried to, but yelling wouldn't get those answers any faster.

Silence fell upon the gathered companions once Aela did not respond. She stared at the ground, her face brimming with anger. Farkas's shoulders dropped as his own anger on his face melted away into sorrow.

"The Silverhand are back then I take it," Elriah sighed sadly and Alea nodded, confirming their return.

Elriah shook his head sorrowfully. Peace had not lasted long.

Silence fell yet again as Tilma continued to tend to the wounds. For a brief moment the only sound heard was linen being pulled from a roll. Aela's old bandages lied nearby in a pile by Tilma's feet, bloodied and torn from a fight.

The rest of the companions shared looks as they thought the worst. Ria already looked at the point of tears while Njada looked away angrily as her injured sister refused to speak.

"…Is my brother dead?" Farkas asked quietly.

Aela yet shook her head, making Farkas's face brighten up slightly with hope. There was a sigh of relief from the other Companions as they let out the breath they had been holding. Skjor went to say something but Aela cut him off as she finally spoke up.

"We rescued a werewolf from a Silverhand garrison that we came across on our mission. He was badly off so we treated him and took him along. We planned to bring him here; that is before I found out that the Silverhand use him to track down other werewolves like their own personal bloodhound. I questioned him but he attacked; though I'm sure you already noticed that. "

Aela paused to motion down at one of her legs.

"I also came across a troll on the way here, so not all are from his blows. Vilkas refused to let me leave the traitor of a wolf behind after we subdued him and well…."

Her voice trailed off.

"I may have been a bit too heavy handed with the Lad, but Vilkas left with him and I haven't seen them since we passed by on the road."

Elriah stared at Aela before twisting his lips into a worried grimace that matched his husbands.

Farkas said nothing as he looked at Elriah, then back to Aela. Vilkas was known for just walking off but never with someone, let alone with strangers, and defiantly not with anyone who had ties to the Silverhand. Elriah knew that Vilkas had felt guilty for hunting down most of the Silverhand during his rage from Kodlak's death; but that didn't mean he would just go and help one now because of it, werewolf or not. Especially not with a werewolf.

Elriah looked over Aela's wounds. The ones on her leg and side were lighter than the rest cutting the skin in clean thin lines that had already begun to scab. The rest on her body were jagged, fresh, and deep. The werewolf truthfully hadn't even harmed her enough to really leave any noticeable scars. Distrust filled Elriah's gut as he went over her story again. They had saved the werewolf, healed him, and then interrogated him before Vilkas left with the stranger. Something wasn't right, and if Aela said she had been too harsh on the 'lad' she blatantly admitted she was and felt guilty. Elriah's eyes squinted as he scowled; distrust and disproval clear to see.

"Tilma, once your done tending to Aela please prepare some supplies. Athis, Farkas, and I will be leaving to investigate. Take tomorrow off too; you've done more than enough work patching us up constantly."

The rest of the Companions murmured as they noticed his disapproving stare that still held Aela captive. Elriah look away and found Athis among the crowd. His darker sin and red eyes stood out against the surrounding Nords. Those red eyes were already locked on his as Athis gave a nod of understanding.

"Athis, if you could?" Elriah ventured before heading for the stairs. He gave Farkas a sad smile that was returned and a comforting light hand on his shoulder before Farkas turned back to question Aela. Athis followed and once they were behind closed doors Elriah lowly spoke his orders.

"When we leave I need you to bring along the satchel, you know the one. I've stashed it away out of sight but you should be able to find it quickly enough, same place as always. If we are dealing with an injured werewolf we need to be prepared for anything."

Athis gave his harbinger a curious glance.

"You're planning to do what you did to that one stray you called Sinding, aren't you?"

"Yes Athis, I am. I don't know how much of this Werewolf story is true, but I have no doubt that there was one involved. Now go get it and be quick about it. I don't want Farkas to see it or he will expect the worst. We may not have much time either."

Elriah was a good Harbinger, similar to Kodlak but was neutral on the blood of the beast they shared. Though Elriah did well as harbinger it was no secret among the companions that he had released many werewolves from Silverhand's traps, various prison cells, or even their own insanity, by releasing them into the hunting grounds with swift poisons.

Aela didn't have to try to understand the look she had received from her harbinger. She saw hesitation mixed with doubt of her words. She had pressured Elriah into fighting many times when he was new to the Companions, leaving him weary of her still. Aela knew he could read her and that he knew there was more to what had happened than she dared to say.

The other Companions offered kind words and well wishes before slowly drifting back to their rooms. They had all seen the look, and now they were uncertain. As they retired for the night until only Farkas, Tilma, and Skjor were left.

Skjor stood close by, close enough for her to feel the concern and shame radiating from him. Soon there was no doubt about it. She had made a grave mistake. Aela could barely feel the sting of her wounds as the weight of the situation settled in.

Vilkas was missing and was now alone with a cold blooded killer.