The sun had long set by the time Lunaria was able to leave the small mountain village behind. With their only real healer incapacitated, it had been up to her to dress the townsfolk's wounds and bless the dead before she could continue after the frost troll responsible for the attack. The villagers, while unable to truly defeat it on their own, had managed to drive it off shortly before Lunaria had arrived. Her own mission, while important, could be put off for a day or two while she dealt with this threat to the locals living here.

Frost trolls are well known for their stealth among the snow, but this one had left a trail of blood in its wake from the numerous wounds left by the townsfolk's spears and bows. Once out of sight of the village, and able to safely assume what she was slowly coming to consider her true form, it had been child's play to follow that dark crimson trail through the nearby woods.
Now, she was nearing the creature's lair and she could smell its rancid, unmistakable stench. Soon, her hunt would be complete, and the people living nearby safe from its predations. Then it would be time to move on once more...

My werewolf paladin, Lunaria, tracking her prey on a cold winter's night.

Art is by SadNicole!