Not In Nottingham

Winter couldn't come soon enough in his opinion. Éldi was over the southern summers and while the swim to the island had cooled him, his thick pelt quickly began to soak up the heat. As one of Hjarrandi's hunters he had a lot of mouths to feed, not only the Band's but also the newly acquired prisoners and it was a task that was quickly eating up a lot of his time. With a plump hare set between his jaws he set out to feed the next wolf on his list, Raccoon. No, he didn't know the man's name, he didn't really know any of their names but the Raccoon was a tiresome little squirt. Eldi wished Valkyrie would just let him break one of the man's legs but he had a feeling she'd be against 'damaged' goods. They'd go for less but he could try really hard to make sure it was nothing permanent and a wounded slave would fetch more than no slave at all. He supposed they'd see how this newest set up held.

Éldi approached the wolf who was tethered next to the pit and dropped half the rabbit.  "Dinner." He didn't have much more to say than that. He didn't typically talk to the prisoners, just a chunk of meat, a curt greeting and onto the next. Seizing the other half he was about to take off when he thought he heard movement not far off. Ears flicked forward. Probably nothing…