Giannine--What are they going to do: smack me on the head with a pamplet?

The wolf sniffed beneath the door to be sure this was a human cottage. The scent was undeniable. No pigs, except in bacon form. The wolf thought bacon form was a very sensible way for pigs to behave.

They'd poisoned me, dammit. Probably to trade my dead body to the barbarians for Wulfgar's safe return. Or maybe just for the fun of it.

Mothers are legendary for being able to read the thoughts of their children at just the right moment.

If you don't like vampire games, don't play

Giannine--What are they going to do: smack me on the head with a pamplet?

Number one rule for fiction: Coincidence can be used to worsen a characters predicament, but never to solve his problems.