It had been a gruesome job to partake in, but as Husk lay unconscious and shimmering with sweat, Elriah decided that it managed to be somewhat worth it. Pale and sickly, Husk still looked a few steps back from death's door. His wounds were now clean, medicated, and stitched, leaving only the collar to be dealt with. Even the wound on his forehead had been tended to.

As the other Companions went about disposing the old stitches and covering the bloodied ground with dirt, Vilkas sat unmoved by Husk's side. There was an emptiness in his gaze, aimed in the direction of the newly stitched wounds. His silver eyes were unfocused and blurry with exhaustion.

Elriah truly hoped that his brother-in-law was plagued with guilt. Surviving the field surgery or not, Husk's life was far from guaranteed, and if he did, there would be more suffering in his future while healing. More chances of it all leading to a fruitless end. Elriah wondered bitterly if he was just as much at fault for Husk's pain by letting the surgery take place.

Gingerly, the Harbinger turned his attention, and his hands, to the collar. Perfectly smooth like marble and just as thick, there was no gap or give from the silver. Older burns overlapped underneath it's rim, raised and ragged, in a seal of scarred flesh.

"Vilkas?" Elriah spoke.

The Companion glanced up wearily with lips turned downwards as a frown set upon him. The shadow around his eyes had only grown from holding down the struggling lad. The guilt was as clear as the gouge on Husk's back.

Good.

"What do you know of this collar? Anything?"

Vilkas nodded shallowly and slow. "Some," Vilkas all but spat, "that damned thing was soldered on the moment they stuck it on him."

Elriah's brows raised, eyes widening in alarm at such a cruel injustice. "He told you this?"

"No, but there's no other explanation," Vilkas said. "There are no locks anywhere on it; just a melted line."

Elriah continued to examine the werewolf's collar with that statement in mind, only to come to the conclusion that Vilkas was, decidedly, right. There was no mistaking the soldered line.

Farkas pulled more mead from his rucksack. He offered it to Elriah first, who turned it down with a wave of a hand. Vilkas welcomed the mead and accepted it without a word, as did Athis.

"That was rough," Farkas acknowledged bluntly.

Athis tilted his mead in acknowledgement. "That is was. Can't say that contraption will be any easier, though."

"Maybe we should cut it off?" Farkas offered, "we brought a wood axe."

His brother's head shot up, a dangerous stiffness to his form. The light from the fire made his tired dark eyes look even darker as he glared across it at Farkas.

Farkas returned the glare with a hard glance, not budging at all under his brother's protective glower. "You heard me. No keyhole means no key, and that means no way to unlock it. I might be slow, but even I know that means we've got to cut."

"Even if that's the case we can't just use some axe!" Vilkas scoffed. "It will take nothing less than a good blacksmith and the divines to get that damned thing off!"

"Without taking his head with it, at least," Athis added.

Farkas shrugged while he chewed thoughtfully. Supper had been a quickly done affair. "Yeah, well, what else can we do? We just going to leave it on there until and hope it just falls off?"

Elriah turned his back on the argument as he gaveHusk's wounds a final check, looking for any signs of a spot missed by medication or illy-stitched. He didn't bother to listen to whatever retort Vilkas practically shouted across the camp.

Athis however seemed to be greatly enjoying the show, with his face stuck in a grin as he listened to the cursing and angry fuming between the brothers.

Elriah glanced beseechingly at the dunmer. " Please tell me you have some other idea," Elriah pleaded. "Something that doesn't involve any sort of axe or sword or taking Husk to a blacksmith. I don't want to risk having anyone getting thrown into a forge." There was a hint in his tone however that suggested the opposite, and that he'd quite happily do so himself.

"Well...I do have something that might work." The elf didn't bother to explain. With the argument between the brothers set aside, Athis walked between the pair, wandering over to Husk and began without even a quick notice of his plans. His dagger shimmied between the skin and collar.

" Careful !" Elriah hissed.

"Oh come off it," Athis huffed. "He's got too many scars to be able to feel this." True or not, no blood began to appear. The Companions were left having to watch as Athis began to use his blade as a lever in an attempt to pry the collar loose. The edge of the blade trying to find the inner grove where the soldered line was weakest. When there was no sign of giving, more weight was put behind it with a grunt. "Hold on, I think I've got it…"

The Companions leaned in closer as the collar finally began to move, sliding up at an angle.

Farkas, clearly pleased that some version of his idea was working, eyed the blade with satisfaction. Even more so once the metal started to creak. Everyone held their breath as hope lingered in the air. Athis ginned triumphantly at his soon to be victory.

!

The blade shot across the camp as the collar snapped back into place. Athis stared dumbfounded at the broken handle in his hands. The dagger had snapped cleanly at the hilt, while the blade, which had thankfully not cut anyone as it escaped, was lost to the bushes that edged the camp.

"…Well," Elriah said. "I suppose that takes care of that idea."

"By the Red Mountain the blasted thing won't budge for anything less than a miracle!" Athis tossed his useless hilt aside. "Vilkas is right; we'll need a smith to get this damned thing off."

"Eorlund might do it," Farkas spoke up. His face fell with uncertainty. "...Not sure if he's ever had to cut metal off of a living person though."

Elriah hummed at the idea, weighing the options. Eorlund could do it, without a doubt, but the real question was would he. Eorlund never liked to take risks with his creations, let alone a living being when the slightest skip of his tools could easily decapitate.

There was nothing left to do but leave the collar on and wait.

"Do you think he will pull through this, 'riah?"

Elriah sat close to his husband's side, nestled up against the warm bulk of a body. Husk had been moved to the tent while the other two Companions set up another nearby. Farkas and Elriah took to watching over the lad as he still lay unconscious.

"I can't say for sure just yet. He's a fighter though if he hasn't died already." Elriah answered.

"You're worried he won't make it through tonight, but you're not sure because he's a full blood?"

Elriah nodded. Farkas was nowhere near to being as dumb as some thought. Slow perhaps, but far from stupid. There was a simplistic wisdom there, one that never over thought, and just saw things as they were. There were no tips of the trade to follow now; only uncharted territory. Farkas had picked up on his worry so easily, still suppressing Elriah years into their marriage.

"There are a lot of issues all going at once," Elriah confessed. "It's hard to tell how far gone he may be...but as long as he doesn't start to seize again there should be a chance."

"Like Kodlak…?" Farkas frowned as he left the sentence open for Elriah to respond, or hopefully assure him otherwise. The mention of seizures alone seemed to sap any hope from him as his shoulders slumped is disappointment.

Elriah gave a shallow nod. "Like Kodlak."

Farkas echoed solemnly and leaned into his husband more. "…I hope he does. He seems nice enough, smart too. Something new to bring to our hall."

Elriah managed to chuckle despite his exhaustion. "You're just saying that because your brothers taken a liking to him."

"Nah, well, maybe; but Husk did good too. With the whole vampire distraction thing." He paused. "I liked that."

"Of course you would," Elriah smiled. Anything entertained his husband - but that was part of why he loved him.

Silence settled over them. Their charge, Husk, was bundled up snuggly in not only the bedroll, but the cloak that still served as a blanket. Farkas had dropped a true blanket from his supplies on top of it.

"You know, this is the first time since we were whelps that I've ever seen Vilkas take something in like this," Farkas finally spoke. His tone was soft, unwilling to shake the comfortable mood. "Last time it was our dog's runt. He tried for a good solid week to help it, and cried for another when it passed."

Elriah heaved a sigh and hung his head in momentary weakness. He couldn't promise that Husk would survive, and even if he did, Farkas had no idea that his brother had agreed to put Husk down if needed. It was a heavy burden to bear to be a harbinger of the Companions, let alone the husband of the man who was already investing himself.

Elriah knew by heart how Husk would react when he awoke, and how much pain he would be in. He had the power to stop it. All of it. It wouldn't take much. He would need to either convince Vilkas it was time to let him go, or simply slip in during the night and make it look like Husk had passed away quietly in his sleep.

His satchel could do it.

"...We'll certainly see," Elriah sighed.

Eventually another tent was set, and Husk was moved to it instead. It was larger, certainly enough to fit about three Companions at a time, but better yet it was warm . And far from empty as they were soon joined by Athis and Farkas. By the time they settled in, with Elriah taking first watch, dawn had already begun to break.

"...We were worried about you, you know," Farkas said. "You should have come back with Aela. Vanishing like that was a bad idea."

"Aela didn't give me a choice. Husk survived too much to be left to bled out at some dusty camp."

"That happened after the questioning, right? I know she said it was bad but...Still, I didn't think she'd cut someone up like that for answers."

Vilkas' blood ran cold. "She spoke of it…?" His voice barely managed to come out in a scarce whisper as he sat up.

"Yeah, she said it in front of everybody," Farkas grimaced. "...And about him being a Silverhand."

"By ysmir I'll kill her!"

Athis snickered. As much as he'd love to watch that fight go down he knew it was best to calm his brother now before Elriah would catch wind of them still being awake. "Now now, no need for that, shield-brother." Athis paused with a grunt as he stretched. The sound of bones popping was loud in their tent. "Unless what she said was true, things should be fine. You may not be as smart as you say Vilkas, but I don't think even you could be that damaged in the head."

Farkas nodded enthusiastically at the elf's argument. "Aela had to have gotten it all wrong. There's no doubt he was tortured and all, but that ? Being able to kill that many werewolves and working with the Silverhand?" He shook his head. "Nah, I don't see that."

Vilkas sighed slowly as he drug a hand through his hair. If Aela had already said something, then she had probably given a full report. There was no use trying to hide the truth of it now. "...Aye, he did. Aela wasn't lying about that, as much as I wish I could say she was."

The tent fell silent.

Not wanting to bother with pleading a case for the man who could still die that night, Vilkas sighed and lied back on the bedroll. Husk was indeed the killer Aela had painted him to be. Either way the damage was done and there was nothing that could change it.

However, the surprised silence was cut short by Farkas' curiosity. "Did you guys really name him...?"

Vilkas scrubbed at his face before answering. There really would be no sleep in his future. It was still a better topic than murder, at least. "Aye. We had to call him something , poor bastard didn't remember his own name.

Farkas sat up. Vilkas inwardly groaned at the realization he would not be getting any sleep whatsoever.

"Alright, that makes sense, but why Husk ?"

Eyes widened in surprise at the obvious question. "...Now that you mention it, I haven't. He chose the name and we left it at that."

"If he survives, let's rename him, maybe take a vote on naming the stray. I personally say we should name him Bingo ," Athis teased.

"If you call him a stray again I'll beat you worse than Njada ever could," Vilkas warned. "It may be stupid name, I'll agree, but he decided it so it stays ."

Athis held his hands up in moc submission. "I'm sure you would too, running off with him and all. It's no wonder you're so protective. So sorry to offend."

It took surprising restraint to not verbally tear into the elf. In the end, Farkas interrupted before any fight could break out. "Come on now, don't yell, you might actually manage to wake him up with all that!" Both Vilkas and Athis looked to Husk, before sharing a look of skepticism. "Look, let's all just get some sleep. It's been a long day, and I don't want Elriah madder than he is already."

Athis scoffed. "He's not mad, just perturbed. It's not every day you have to save some random werewolf. Now, If he were mad someone would be dead, and by someone I mean our idiot friend here." Athis poked Vilkas's arm with his finger. "...While we're on the topic of Bingo, was he really as bad off as Aela said he was?"

"If by bad off you mean we thought he was some sort of drauger, then yes." Vilkas said tersely. "You should have seen it, real stomach turner that was."

"I'm glad I didn't, thank you." Athis' slip sneered in disgust.

"Good, now if you'll both shut up so I can get to sleep I won't have to tell you the gruesome details. I could ramble on about the way those maggots slithered on his spine."