The balverine sat in the snow, blood that was not it's own splattered all over it's thick, dark fur. Mainly on it's maw and claws. Deciding to move, the lonely creature made its way through the snow, sniffing the air. It wasn't really looking for food, just something to do. Not it's pack, the pack had been murdered. And the balverine padding through the snow still had a limp from that attack.




Timber wolf.

Human cub.

It was curious. Human cubs never went far without grown humans, but this one was on it's own. And injured.

The balverine followed the scent, hastening then going back to limping with a growl of pain. It found the human cub. Small. Male. Shivering, cold? It's leg was injured. The same leg as the balverine. Similar injury. He was scared. Too tired, or injured, to run away.

It sniffed around. Circled the human cub. It was so cold. The thing moved closer, and sat, looking at the male human cub with inquisitive eyes. It wanted to kill the cub. But it didn't. And that was confusing.

The male cub reached out a tentative hand, and patted the creature's head.

That felt...not painful. So the balverine pushed its head into the boy's hand, eager for more. And it got more. It wanted to keep this one. So it crouched lower, and waited. And when the cub did nothing, it grabbed him by the cloth casing and tossed him onto its back.

Then, it started to run, growled each time it used its injured leg, but impatient. Then, it reached its home.

Once, it had been filled with the pack. Now, the whole place was empty. The creature dropped the boy when it reached the warmth of its favourite cave. The boy was still shivering. So the creature curled up around the boy to warm him, and they slept safely that night.