Unable to keep herself away, The Runt's daughter leapt into the blood stained arena and huddled next to her dear father figure. She wept so much that Samuel had to brush away his own tears. It was a sad scene: The Alpha gurgling as the final signs of life escaped from out of him and the young pup's futile begging that he would live. These calamitous wailings reverberating through the wolf den, rendering everyone grief stricken... except Flint.
Lacking pity, Flint scoffed at the sight of the weeping pup. He then stormed off to retrieve his rapier and boldly paraded through the circle of wolves, frozen with fear, to release Samuel from his cell. It only took two quick strokes of his weapon to cut away the bars made of thistles.
Sheathing his rapier, Flint glared up at Samuel and gruffly said, "Next time, don't wander from the campfire."
In total agreement, Samuel nodded his head and rushed over to Miss Bleak who shoved the gold hilted sword into his shaking arms. Samuel mouthed a weak thank you and held his weapon with a pusillanimous grip.
"Well, all's well that ends well," Flint shot out an arrogant breath of air.
He sauntered past all the wolves and reentered the fighting ring. Passing by the whimpering pup still balling at her dead friend, Flint clucked and kicked a wave of dirt into the Alpha's pale face.
"Old dog," scoffed Flint one last time for good measure.
The bird flicked his head back and left. Suddenly, Samuel noticed the young wolf glaring up at Flint with fire in her wrathful eyes. She sank on her belly, and with an expression of fuming bloodlust she hurdled herself at the bird, who was unaware of the impending danger.
"Flint!" Samuel screamed and pointed with his sword at the attacking pup. "Watch out!"
Unfortunately, the minstrel's warning came too late. Snatching the bird up in her baby teeth, the wolf crushed down on the killer as hard as she could. Flint wailed in fervent anger from the pain pulsing through his back. He reached for his weapon while trying to pry open the pup's jaws with one of his wings. Once he managed to open up a wide enough gape, he unsheathed his rapier and placed it in between his armpit where he thrust it backwards and skewered a hole in the young wolf's mouth.
A blood curdling gasp shot from the pup's gaping lips. Blood flowed out of her like geyser and she spat the bird out. Clenching the side of his torso, Flint limped towards the howling pup and venomously cursed at her.
"You wolf bitch!!!" screamed the crow, making everyone around, even Samuel and Miss Bleak, shake in fear. Flint leaped in the air, came down on the whimpering wolf with his rapier, and shouted just before she ended her, "Why would you do something that stupid? I was gonna let you live, damn it!"
The sight of the crow killing one of their young caused the pack to go into a frenzy. One of the wolf adults, closest to the crow and the dying pup, rushed at them in a desperate attempt to kill the child murderer while he was distracted. But as the attacking beast leaped into the air, there was a sharp twang. The wolf flopped on the ground, sideways, with one of Miss Bleak's long arrows sticking out of his side.
Flint shot his eye at the dead wolf and glared at the obstreperous crowd who gnashed their teeth at him. Snorting in frustration, Flint flourished his rapier, taunting the wolves to come and attack him.
"Come on, then!" he squawked. "I'll kill all you wolf filths!"
Charging at the bird, seven of the braver wolves attempted to outnumber the bird. They rushed at him from multiple angles with their claws and teeth shimmering from the lights of the makeshift torches hanging from the walls. However, Flint sprang high in the air and began kicking the troches at the wolves to keep them at bay. Sparks sent their fur ablaze making them roll in the dirt and howl like crazy to keep themselves from being burned alive.
One of the more unfortunate wolves was unable to quench the fire. In a matter of seconds, the fur on its back was smoldering as the wild animal ran in a circles and cried for salvation. A few of the wolves in the crowd that were too afraid to attack the bird tried to aid their comrade by kicking piles of dirt at the flames eating at the creature's back.
Yet as they did this, Flint landed in the midst of them and sliced at as many of their legs as his blade could reach. Meanwhile the burning wolf toppled over and breathed his last as the fire consumed his flesh. With Flint's blood stained beak tight and his expression murderous, the crow did not show these wolves any mercy. He ran them through even as they tumbled over each other to get away from the bloody sword.
While Flint fought his way past countless wolves, Miss Bleak had been standing her ground with her back near the exit. A side group of wolves charged at the barmaid and Samuel, who was quaking in fear behind Bleak.
"Stop whimpering and make yourself useful!" the bartender spat.
She cocked another arrow into her crossbow. Twirling the bow in her arms in a similar fashion as you would toss a baton in the air, Miss Bleak slipped her finger to the trigger and let the arrow fly. It pierced into the breastbone of one of the attacking wolves, pinning the crying creature to a wall where it suffocated. Having no time to prepare another arrow, the barmaid spun her weapon around and used the butt of the cross bow as a club.
Watching Bleak plummeting wolf after wolf in her fury did not feed Samuel's courage. On the contrary, it made Samuel more reluctant to join in. The bloody battle made him sick to his stomach. Gawking around the chaotic battlefield, Samuel felt his thoughts go blank. Every faculty in his mind was escaping him as he watched the bird kill.
Flint fluttered all about the den stabbing one wolf at a time while keeping himself from being surrounded and outnumbered. This strategy proved all too effective. The wolf numbers were dwindling fast and those that were brave enough to attack the bird headlong began to lose hope.
During this killing spree, Flint started hunting those wolves attempting to escape the gore-covered burrow. He killed them with the same murderous rage as those that attacked him. They all were the same to the crow.
"What?" snapped Flint as he stabbed into the torso of a wolf that was huddled in a corner unable to flee. "Now you don't want to fight? Don't want to die for the memory of your tyrant? Huh?! Too late! I'm done showing you wolf filths mercy. I'm gonna kill all of YOU!!!"
Samuel could barely hold his sword in his hands. The awful sound of the bird's tirade brought shivers down his back. Even as a wolf came barreling at him from behind, he could not keep his eyes off Flint and his glimmering rapier.
The wolf landed one top of the flute player and snapped its jaws inches towards the human's face. Realizing the dire situation, he was in, Samuel kept the wolf's jaws at bay by lifting his sword up and pressing the blunt part in between the chattering teeth. Even as the wolf spat out blood from slicing itself up during its assault, the animal would not relent. The creature was so close to its prize.
"Get off him!!!" wailed Miss Bleak as she batted the wolf in the back of the skull.
With a miserable yap, the wolf tumbled on the ground, ten feet away, and shook out its dizzy head. It didn't have a chance to retaliate once Flint came fluttering above the wolf and brought his blade down to finish it off. The wolf breathed its last and rolled over on its side with its lifeless tongue gaping out of its crimson colored mouth.
Even Miss Bleak's expression hardened at the bird's savagery. Now that there were no more wolves with the will to stand up to the crow, Miss Bleak and Samuel gawked at the morbid sight of wolf corpses scattered all over the den while Flint made sure that each one still breathing had a last taste steel before their grizzly end.
In the corner of the minstrel's eyes, Samuel caught sight of The Runt sneaking away with a pack of wolf children. They scampered up the spiral, stone ramp to the second floor and huddled in a burrow to hide.
Nevertheless, once Flint stabbed the last remaining wolf left alive on the first floor, he darted his poised beak upstairs and cawed violently, "I know you're in there! Come out, or I'll come up. None of you wolf filths are going to live to take your revenge on me. No more! I won't be hunted by your kind anymore!"
Too fatigued to fly, Flint marched up the steps using his sword like a walking stick. Clasping his bill in anger, the crow did not look like he was going to stop. Samuel was certain of this.
"Wait Flint!" Samuel cried. Running in front of the mad bird, the flute player pleaded with Flint, "Don't do this! You don't have to do this, Flint!"
Tossing his wing at Samuel, Flint scoffed, "Get out of the way, flute player! I'm done showing these damn wolves any mercy!"
"No, Flint! This is madness. I won't let you!"
The bird leaped over Samuel and kicked him in the back of the head and said, "You won't let me?! Try and stop me! Be warned, minstrel! I am not in the mood for your stupid sense of morality. This doesn't concern you humans. Just us animals. Why do you people always get in our way?!"
Landing on the ground at the entrance of the Runt's sleeping quarters, Flint glared at the mother and her cubs with a fiery glint in his eye. He snarled causing the whimpering pups to bury their tiny heads into their mother's breast as she growled in warning for the crow to stay away.
However, Flint was much too furious. He charged forward. In his haste, he tripped over a boulder which opened a small crevice in the wall. Intrigued by the strange hidey-hole, the bird knocked the rock over and saw a pile of coarse papers that Samuel recognized as The Runt's life story.
Flint rustled the pages in his wings and muttered incoherently the words he was having a difficult time reading. After he finished, the bird shook the papers at the Runt's face and demanded, "What the hell is this?! Huh? You writing in the human tongue? Idiot wolf! Lies! All lies about me no doubt!"
The crow cast the pages in the air and sliced them into bits which danced in front of The Runt and her children. Gnashing her jaws, The Runt snarled at Flint. She had to press her paws in the dirt to not leap at the bird then and there. Instead, she shielded her crying pups from Flint and his rapier steadily coming nearer.
"You know nothing about me wolf!" Flint yelled and swung his sword as a treat. "I'll not be some superficial character you can just use in a book! Not again! Never again!"
Barking to drive the bird back, The Runt did all she could to keep her children safe. However, Flint was only ten feet away from them and closing the gap fast.
Aiming his rapier at the adult wolf's snout, Flint squawked, "Dog! You can join your mate in the underworld then!"
Flint was about to jab the blade into The Runt's face, but suddenly a strong hand kept him from the finishing blow. Snapping his head around, Flint came face to face with Miss Bleak. The bartender's grip held firm as she gazed at her friend who was glaring at her monstrously.
"Flint!" she wailed, her voice only a whimper. "That's enough. Leave them alone!"
However, the crazed bird would not listen to his old friend and tried to wiggle away. "Let go, Bleak. Don't get in my way!"
"No, Flint! You've done enough. Stop!"
"I said get the hell off of me, human!"
Like he was witnessing a dream, Samuel watched as Flint's rapier came whizzing at Bleak's legs. The sound of blood oozing out of the towering woman reverberated in the flute player's skull as he winced in disbelief. Tumbling on her back, the barmaid moaned. Flint, fuming with rage, was not finished yet. Like someone insane or possessed by a demon, the bird leaped on top of his friend and jabbed at her neck so close to the skin that a trickle of blood dribbled down her blouse staining it rose red. Standing over her, Flint glared at her with his single eye that had not the least bit of empathy in it. All that Samuel could see was a pool of bottomless hatred.
Bleak shivered in fright. Her thick fingers curled up as if expecting Flint's rapier to run her through. Samuel could tell from her expression that she was afraid. Of death? No... She was afraid that her old friend was gone... lost inside this bird of prey that she had no idea how speak too.
"F-Flint?!" Samuel yelped in one last attempt to dissuade the bird from doing the unthinkable. Racking his brain for something to say, he finally cried out, "Edvrick! Remember Edvrick... Your friend! Don't do this... Please don't do this."
Lifting his head up, the bird blinked at the minstrel as the old name stung at his ears. He was reawakening as he fumbled with his sword in his wing. A hint of consciousness moved in that one gaping eye. Flint gasped for air, until he suddenly became aware of everything he was doing. All the terrible things he had just done. He had to look in every direction just to believe that he had done all of it. The bloody rapier then slipped from his sweating feathers and clanged on the dirt.
With his beak drooping down, he wheezed and pleaded to the woman, "M-miss B-Bleak! I-I didn't... I wouldn't have..."
However, Bleak would not look at him. She just puckered her lips and shivered on the floor.
Just then from behind him, The Runt bellowed out in agony, "Ch-child Killa! Mu'de'a! Monsta'! I-I'm all 'lone! Aloneeee! My child'en! Hooow 'ill I feeeed my child'en?! Ya killed usss! Killed my fam'ly! Aloneee! All 'lone! Can't do this aloneee!"
The wolf mother broke down and plummeted on the floor in a heap as her pups climbed over her and cried with hunger. It was true, Samuel knew. One wolf to take care of infant pups that would be needing meat not milk? No single wolf could do such a thing. Bowing his head, the minstrel felt a pang in his heart for The Runt crying as she gazed upon the scattered pages of her destroyed manuscript under her paws. Her species' extinction was sealed and even the memory of their existence was completely gone, littered on the ground.
Breathing heavily, Flint gazed at The Runt and her doomed pups. He then shot a glance down at Bleak again still not taking any heed of her friend. The blood dripping from her neck made the bird wince with pain.
"I-I'm s-sss..." Flint tried to speak but his voice faltered in the back of his throat.
In his misery, the bird crawled off Bleak's torso. Like a mad dog howling, he scurried away downstairs and through a dark tunnel, leaving Samuel calling after him. But Flint would not listen and continued running from everyone he had hurt.
"Not again!" the crow's voice echoed through the den he had made a tomb. "Not again!!!"