grow

Innistrad was very different from the last time he had come here. A lot had happened, though finding out exactly what was difficult; the provinces were in poor shape. But enough had been gathered to know that it had been very, very bad.

But for now, Elis was picking through a patch of woods, having offered his assistance to the local Springsages as they struggled to cleans the land of the taint of the Intruder. An uphill battle, and he's already cleansed and destroyed several corrupted relics and cleansed a few patches of woods best he could.

Interestingly, though, the deeper he slipped through the dark trunks, the more scarce taint was becoming. Odd, given the cathars had said that deep woods often held the most dangerous corrupted beasts, since they had been festering in the solitude of the woods for much longer, undetected. The only clues had been the discovery of strange silver runes seeming to be almost burned into the earth and trees here and there, often around patches of desolate earth; though tiny seedlings were often poking their leaves above the soil by the time he found them.

...

The snap of a branch off to his right drew his attention, though; the young mage lifted his stave and started to creep toward the sound. The shuffle and snap of foliage was joined by the squealing of some sort of animal, and the hiss of a voice he couldn't make out. He used the tip of his stave to push some branches aside gently, as quiet as he could, and peered into the clearing.

A hulking wolf-woman was crouched in the rough middle of the mossy earth, one huge arm holding a young boar into the dirt as it struggled and squealed. The boar's side was criss-crossed by a fleshy lattice that Elis was all too familiar with lately, and it has far more tusks than even an adult boar should. It didn't seem to be bothering the beast-woman at all, though, as she traced strange runes in the dirt around the pinned creature. The symbols lit up with a silvery light from within as she intoned faint words, and the stench of burning hair billowed through the area for a moment, the boar stilling as the corruption was seared away with silver light.

The hand holding the stave up was shaking, Elis now noticed. He didn't know werewolves could use magic, especially silver magic. He had to tell the church, this was a very dangerous revelation, and --

Wait, the silver tips of her black fur... No, not a werewolf. Right! The cursemute! This creature was a wolfir, one of those blessed by Avacyn before her descent into madness. Only a few of them remained, and this must be...

There was a faint swishing, though, as the wolf-woman turned her head suddenly, and he sucked in a sudden breath. Blessed or not, who knew if she was *friendly.*