A wolf, a crow and a man stand in a half-finished ring of timbers. Snow lies heavy upon the ground and drifts in the grey air, crowning the pillars that bend toward one another in towering arches. The crow hops from foot to foot, large enough to carry off deer should it wish to, an agitated look in its yellow eyes as both man and wolf glare daggers at it, the pair blaming the scavenging instigator of strife for their argument.

The man stands tall, clothed in furs and hides against the winter chill. His best years are behind him and his dark hair has begun to lose the vibrancy of youth. His eyes are pale and sightless, blinded by hubris years ago, but his back remains straight , for all he leans more heavily on his staff these days. His fingers may ache in the cold more than they used to, but he flexes them as if he wishes to wrap them around someone's neck, or snatch the stone knife from its sheath at his belt and let it taste blood. The shift of his feet however, make it unclear if the subject of his anger is the bird, or the third of their meeting.

The wolf wears the form of a man, rangy and lean, his features hungry and his shaggy hair as white as the snow around them. His lips are pulled back in a snarl as he disregards the mortal man and directs his fury solely at the crow. A pile of roughly-butchered meat, thrice the weight of a young woman, lies at his feet atop a sled made from branches. A flint-topped spear sticks from the pile, piercing one likely-looking steak from which a ragged bite has been torn before being discarded.

"I deserve my share, Soqed, or this bounty would have ceased long ago," the crow speaks, a mocking tone in its harsh voice. "I'm not asking for more than a morsel, after all, lest any of us forget, all I did was give you an idea. It was <span class="mu-i">you</span> who actually trapped the girl in the Wild and you who pretended to be her friend, her loyal companion through her little stroll. I never <span class="mu-i">did</span> anything, unlike you."

"And for that, my pack and your flock enjoyed a pact," the wolf snarls, his human mouth full of a canine's teeth to pierce and hold and rip. "As we agreed at the time! I should have known then that would not be enough for a glutton like you!"

"A pact now far too valuable to break, no matter how sulky you get!" the crow caws triumphantly. "Bark all you like, puppy, you know I'm riiight!" The mocking sing-song to his voice is filled with delight at his cruel joke's success. Yet the joke was not solely at the wolf's expense, as the crow skitters and hops, one beady yellow eye peering at the furious human.