Coldsteel The Hedgehog Novels & Stories

The lead ball had neatly shot through the chest reinforcement's thickest part. Prior to shooting, Iron Hatchet had painstakingly seen this shield. It was plainly not a craftsmanship studio's mediocre item worked from terrible materials. The signs of the sledge and iron block on the neck area demonstrated that this was a result of Graycastle's metalworker standard. The thickest part was a portion of a finger thick and was sufficient that it could avert an immediate hit from a crossbow, terminated at the nearest distance. To manage this sort of protection, a weighty crossbow or a warhammer would be a savvy decision.

He nodded and picked something up off a tray on a small rolling table. He played with the object, it was small, I could tell that much, as he strode towards us. “And in those three years you’ve seen us shift, yes?” I whimpered but nodded. “So tell me Little Silver,” The Alpha crouched in front of me and I saw that he held a key. “Why don’t you show us your wolf?” He grinned and reached out to snag the collar around my throat. The spikes bit into my neck, making me cry out in pain, and then it was gone. The Alpha stepped back, collar in one hand. He nodded, and his Beta hauled me to my feet.