"Canines", Qaarh growled between closed teeth as the third wolf in short time decided to make the feline its lunch. He spun around and landed a quick blow with his scourge to the side of the wolves head, dancing nimbly around his foe while calling for the aid of his anscestors. Qaarh's vision slowly darkened as battle rage filled his mind. He heard himself roar loudly and all of a sudden it was over. Before him lay a slain wolf in a mess of fur and blood. He stretched a bit, wondering exactly what had happened during his battle with the wolf, he had never had anything like that happen to him before. He glanced around himself, nobody would have seen what happened. Still something felt strange. Pausing for a second, he stared at his paws. A shimmer passed over them and he thought for a second that they had been replaced with the paws of a bear, his already fur tinted dark brown. Shaking his head at the vision, he leaned over the dead wolf to skin it. With the meat nicely packed in small packets within his bag, Qaarh started his walk back towards the city. He knew something had happened to him and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He went over the whole scene in his head several times, but there was an empty spot from between when he roared and when the wolf was dead. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he had wandered straight into a trap. "You there!" a voice boomed, causing Qaarh to abruptly snap out of his thoughts. "Hand over your bags and we might let you live!" Rolling his eyes, Qaarh lifted his head to see the who spoke the words. Above him, on a ledge, stood a man in leather armour. A rusted blade rested in his hand and around him stood several other bandits; arrows pointing down at Qaarh. Qaarh narrowed his eyes slightly at the man, but nodded. He didn't have anything of importance with him in those bags what he could remember, save for the wolves meat he had collected. What a pity, he thought. The meat was probably worth a few copper at least. But it probably wouldn't be a good idea getting hostile to those people. Not now. "Fine then", he said. "I will give you my bags." He tossed the bag with meat on the ground, then his other bags beside it. The man grinned widely and walked down a slope down to where Qaarh was standing. After a quick glance at the bags, the man walked up to Qaarh. "Well well well, what have we here?" he said. "The cat is wearing valuables!" There came a loud cheer from the bandits who probably hoped for a share of what could be found. With a quick tug, the bandit grabbed a necklace hanging around Qaarh's neck, and the chain broke from the force. The necklace had a single stone hanging in it, a finely shaped malachite that shone green as if it was emitting light on its own. Eyeing it up and down the bandits eyes opened widely. "I'm sure I can sell this one at a really high price!" He let out a wicked laughter that made the blood in Qaarh's veins boil with anger. That necklace was a family heirloom, he knew his family had given it to him although he had never met them. That was one item he wouldn't want to be separated with no matter what, but he silently stood there lest he would be impaled by a dozen arrows from the hillsides around him. "This was quite a remarkable finding, for sure. I shall let you live for this, cat. Now go before I change my mind" the bandit said and motioned to his archers to lower their bows. With quick steps, Qaarh continued along the road with the ringing laughter of the bandits echoing through the pass behind him. Plans had already started to shape in his mind for how he would get his most precious belonging back. By nightfall, he thought. By nightfall he would take it back. They had taken his family heirloom. It would be the last thing they ever did...
