CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN

Balin does heal my injuries but as he does, he points out that my healing ability is slowly growing stronger by the hour.

“You should be fine within a day or two, but perhaps the consumption of meat will help speed up the process.”

Half a day has passed by, and he has removed Idril’s body.

“I gave him a proper burial,” he tells me, solemnly. “He may have changed during the end of his life, but he deserved the respect I owed him.”

I don’t hate Idril. Nor do I mourn his death. But I feel bad for Balin who seems to struggle with himself.

When Aldon comes back, it’s later in the evening, and his voice is grim, “They’re all dead. Slaughtered.”

I know he’s talking about the pack and Balin glances at me, “Are you sure you don’t know anything more about this person?”

I shake my head, “He was just there, and he helped me escape.”

Aldon looks at Balin, his voice serious, “If he caught our scent, he might not return.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about it,” Balin’s voice is tight with a stra