Leyding, the First Binding

Fenris is pensive for some time after opening the journal. He appears uncomfortable revisiting his past, perhaps confused by his desire to relate it to anyone, much less to a book. Yet, he continues after a time, quietly divulging the next chapter of his existence.

I spent the next four years of my life chained in an underground prison. My watcher was a deaf-mute dwarf named Tyr, some child of House Kundarak with no mark. Funny how the marked houses deal with their embarrassments isn't it? Obviously a deaf-mute could never be an asset to the house in any other fashion, so they send him off to do a lifetime of dirty work for an old ally of the House. I think he was kind and gentle though, for during our four years together he never once hit me, only opened the door of my cell, cheerfully walked down the stairs and placed food in front of me, with a smile on his face the whole time. I suppose that's why I felt bad about biting his hand off.

Not that I felt many human emotions during that time. I must admit I grew feral during that first year, and the wolf took over by the end of the second. And I grew physically as well. Of course all three year olds have grown by the time they reach the age of seven, but I was different; a month before I escaped I was as tall as I am today, and had begun to grow a beard. I suppose it has something to do with my wolf blood, after all a wolf is fully grown after about three years.

Despite four years without exercise I was strong, and I longed to taste fresh air and chase badgers and deer. For weeks I strained against my chains, twisted them and pulled at them, and for a fortnight I fought before finally shattering a link and finishing my four years of torture.

That afternoon when Tyr came I was lying in wait. I watched as he paused in confusion at the bottom of the stairs, baffled by my disappearance. In that moment, while his tiny mind was wrapped in other things, I sprung. I knocked him to the floor and lashed out with my teeth, catching his wrist as he moved it instinctively upward to guard his neck and face. My jaws were those of the wolf at that time, and I tasted the dwarf's blood as I clamped down. I remember the way his breath hit me when his face twisted into a silent scream. At the time I thought nothing of it, but later, during my time as my brother's squire, it haunted me.

I turned a deaf-mute into a deaf-mute with no right hand.

But, I was free. By the time the taste of dwarf blood had disappeared from my mouth I was stalking a herd of wild horses on the border of the Talenta Plains.

Fenris pauses a moment, his face blank. One begins to get the impression he is once again looming over the dwarf Tyr. But then his stony features break into a smile and he laughs:

Heh, I really was so hungry that I could eat a horse. And I did, two of them.