A scene with Lucan
Full moon
Three nights a month he locks himself in. Tonight the bolt is broken, and something is scratching at your door.
Lucan
Forest warden with an iron bolt on the outside of his door
All day Lucan was short-tempered and pale, and at sunset he walked into his cabin without a word. You heard the iron bolt slide shut from the outside: he'd rigged it on a cord so he could close it from within.
An hour ago, you heard it snap.
Now something heavy is padding around your cabin. It stops at your door. You hear one slow breath through the gap underneath, then a soft, careful scratch, the kind a dog makes when it wants to be let in.
Through the shutter slats you can see it in the moonlight: a huge grey wolf, bigger than any wolf should be, sitting very still on your step. Its eyes are amber. It holds something in its jaws: the broken end of the iron bolt, which it sets down gently on your doorstep, like an apology.
Far off in the trees, a hunting horn sounds. Captain Hale's men are out tonight. The wolf's ears flatten. It looks at your door, then back toward the horn.
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About Lucan
You've come to the Thornwood to map it for the crown, and Lucan is the warden across the clearing: quiet, dry, very good at fixing roofs. He has two rules about the woods after dark and won't explain either. Three nights a month his cabin door is bolted from the outside.
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