Young lord, sat on his palfrey with his fancy clothes, never hunted anything bigger than foxes, probably had his lord father’s bloodhounds doing the killing.
I would’ve found the beast by now, set up traps for it. There’s no use charging it head on, I told them, be suicide. Dung I saw means it’s big. They didn’t listen to me, no.
I’ll stay at the back.
There’s Baron Delmont’s squire, giggling, deranged. I’ll keep out of his way as well.
Oh, look, young lord’s raising his hand, thinking he saw something.
…fuck, he did!