origin ver. section2(4)
It never came.
The doors burst open, daylight flooding into the arena. Four armed wolves, dressed in heavy plate and wielding the massive tower shields of the Wolf Clan’s Iron Guard, marched into the crowd. It scattered around them, streaming out the door without so much as a word.
The four shield maidens marched straight toward Thane, whose sword held steadfast at Odwald’s neck. One of them, clearly of a higher station than the others, stomped her shield into the floor with a loud clang. “The Alpha Greymane requests your presence in the Great Hall.”
Thane groaned. “Look, ladies,” he cocked his snout at the hare beneath his blade, “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Clan Alpha was clear,” the guard said. “No delays.”
Thane considered this for a moment, then withdrew his blade from Odwald Leadbetter’s throat. The hare breathed an audible sigh of relief.
“Clearly the Leadbetters underestimated you,” the hare said.