Fang sat up and sniffed at the air.

"I know you're in here," he said in his most soothing voice he could muster. It still had a hint of menace coming from his wolfen muzzle.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I wanted to talk to you and knew that Wortham wouldn't allow it."

Fang chuckled. "It might have been easier to talk to me from outside the stables, little one, rather than sneak in."

There was silence for a moment from the girl. Fang laughed again. He was still drunk from the ale.

"Eh, it does not matter. Come on out."

The girl didn't move at first, but within a few moments the tentative girl stepped out from behind one of the stalls.

"I don't want to be a bother, Mr. Wolf."

Fang straightened his posture and crossed his legs. He leaned forward slightly.

"Please, call me Fang."

"Fang?" she asked.

"Yes, I am afraid I am not terribly creative. What is your name?"

"I'm... Corea."

"Well met, Corea. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Fang had piled on the eloquence in his responses. He'd become rather brusque and numb to social graces in his wanderings around Beregym, but when a situation called for it his old impulses kicked in. It helped to disarm those who might otherwise fear him.

Corea step toward Fang. "Well, Fang. It's my brother. He's missing."

Fang frowned, "I suppose I could help you track him in the morning if you could provide me with a little food."

Corea began to cry. Fang began to panic.

"Oh, without food, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It can't wait until morning!" she yelled. She stood with her feet planted firmly apart, trying to make herself appear more imposing. "He might not last another night!"

Fang was impressed at the childish display of anger. The girl had fire. Her reddish-brown hair was long and tangled. She reminded him of his sister.

"The undead might get him!"

Fang leaned forward and rested his heavy jaw on a palm. So the undead were an existing problem for Gordhurst. That helped clear up some of the anxiety of the patrons in the tavern, beyond the presence of a nearly 7-foot man-wolf.

"Tell me, Corea. How long has Gordhurst been under the threat of attack?"

Corea was silent. "I can't really tell you much."

"Do you not know?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it."

Fang raised a furry eyebrow, intrigued. "Who said you aren't supposed to talk about the undead, Corea? Wortham?"

Corea shook her head. "Wortham is a good man, not him. The mayor. He was saying they are just rumors and it disrupts the peace."

Fang was puzzled by this. "Have people been disappearing?"

Corea peered around nervously, afraid of being caught saying something forbidden. She stepped closer to him.

"At least five, I think," she whispered, "just today ol' Tom and Combes went off to look for signs of the undead and my brother, but they haven't come back."

Fang had a pretty clear idea of their fates. He had buried a pair of men in the woods before he had arrived in Gordhurst. It seemed they were likely Tom and Combes. He kept it to himself. He grabbed the hunk of mutton and tore off a piece as he thought about the circumstances.

"I can help you find your brother in the morning, Corea. I am locked in here for the night and I do not want to upset my generous host by breaking the stable doors."

Corea smiled. "I can get you out by unlocking the doors, Fang."

"How so?"

Corea pointed to the wall behind Fang. "There is a loose slat behind you. I use it to sneak in and out of the stables all the time. I'll go get the key from Mr. Wortham."

Fang smiled. "Well, go ahead."

Corea edged toward the werewolf. She was still apprehensive, so Fang did not move. She edged around him, slowly and was behind him shortly. He did not dare make any move to alarm her. He heard the squeaking of wood pivoting on a nail, and then the sound of a board slamming back into place. She was gone.