The five to whom Edric spoke checked their wounds and realized they had fared well, considering the number and ferocity of the wild sows. All the companions had torn clothing, partly from the gallop through relatively dense young woods. Morath, whose pants looked particularly ragged, had received a couple of deep scores from boar tusks, and some of the others a gash or two. Once the matriarch had fallen, the smaller porkers had made off as swiftly as they had charged.
“So, nothing to worry about then!” Edric concluded.
“I’ll see about bringing down a tasty young porker,” Celo volunteered, unslinging his bow. In the close fighting his short sword had proven most effective, but his poaching skills could now come to the fore.
“And I’ll check on the horses,” Vorel stated. He walked the short distance to where the horses had been running-hitched. Not surprisingly, they had pulled free and bolted.
“Yup, that’s about our luck,” he sighed. “Bardic? Alleto? Who’s up for some roundup work?”