Back inside the house, all the wildlings had backed from the warg who had suddenly started screaming out of nowhere with his eyes rolled back. The man was shivering and thrashing around on the ground like an insane lunatic. His pets were equally agitated, growling anxiously around him.
"Is he dyin'?" inquired a thick, blond-haired man, known for his weeping eyes, the Weeper, who stood there with a massive, curved steel scythe and a curious expression.
"Don't think so," answered one of his men hesitantly. He attempted to check on the warg but was driven away by the growling animals.
The warg's open eyes suddenly regained their pupils at that moment as he became aware of his surroundings and stopped screaming himself hoarse. With his body still twitching, and his head screaming from pain, Varamyr wasn't doing so well at the moment.
"Are they here? Are the ships here?" Weeper asked impatiently, showing little concern for the struggling warg's well-being.
"Yes," Varamyr answered hoarsely as he slowly stood up trying to regain control of his body, "Yes, the ships are on their way not that far from here...
"Good! That means we can't waste any more time—"
"Wait! I-I want the warg from the South as my reward... and I want him alive... that bastard somehow killed one of my pets... I want to roast that cunt alive... I want to torture him within an inch of his life..." he said hatefully gritting his teeth, "He will cry and beg for death but I won't give him that until I make him regret—"
"Yes! Yes! You can have him," Weeper interrupted the warg's monologue impatiently, "Now show me where the ships are..."
...
"They'll come through here in a few moments," Varamyr said while pointing towards a narrow strip of water, between the shore and a huge mountainous iceberg, that was the only way for the ship to pass through to reach true North.
They were all hiding behind a small snow-capped hill near the shore from where they got a good vantage point towards anything that was coming towards them, this natural barrier was one of their trump cards that was going to be useful in capturing the southern ships said to be laden with rich goods.
"That is good," Weeper smirked, already thinking about what he would do with all the riches he would loot from those soft Southerners, "Listen good, you fuckers, the moment the ships start passing through that area we are immediately going to run and jump abroad the ships and seize control... We'll kill all those soft-cocked fuckers from the south and take all their food and drinks... and then we feast TONIGHT!!"
"AYE!!!"
All 40 wildlings belonging to the Weeper's warband screamed while banging their weapons in the air. They had six archers among them, while the rest carried spears and a few bronze swords. Only Weeper bore a steel scythe.
"Remember my reward," Varamyr reminded Weeper from his seat on the female bear's shoulder. "And I want that girl as well along with the bastard and the ship..."
Weeper wanted to gut the shit right there and be done with it now that he had outlived his usefulness but he reconsidered when he saw the bear, wolves and the Shadowcat surrounding the warg, who were watching him vigilantly.
"They are here!" The lookout suddenly shouted from atop the snowy hill while pointing towards something on the other side.
The wildlings excitedly climbed the hill and sure enough, there in the distance they were able to see five big ships slowly coming towards them. All of them started breathing heavily at seeing the wooden boxes placed on the deck of the ships that were probably filled with all kinds of exotic food from the South.
"Wait! Let them come closer," Weeper said, stopping some of his over-eager clansmen as the ship came closer to the ambush site.
And then, out of nowhere...
One moment all of them were waiting for the signal to attack and in the next moment an arrow suddenly pierced the eye of one of the archers, sending the wildlings into disarray.
"Fuck! Where did that come from?"
"How can the fucker see us?" "We are hiding behind a hill! It's impossible!"
The one thing Wildling knew better than anything else was how to ambush and they also knew that you need to cut your losses and run once your ambush fails. Two more archers fell to arrows while the wildlings bickered, further intensifying the chaos.
"You bastards! don't forget, he's a Warg!"
"That's not how warging works—a warg has to leave his body so he can't shoot arrows..." Varamyr attempted to explain, but no one paid him any heed. The wildlings hesitated between attacking and fleeing. At that moment, Varamyr was hiding down under the female bear using her as a shield to hide from the arrows as he knew that it was futile to run with his weak body.
"Don't panic!" Weeper yelled at the wildings, "We can still attack—" but before he could try to calm them down another tragedy stuck them. One of the wolves suddenly howled loudly, broke free from Varamyr and started attacking the archers.
"What the—" "Warg! Control your beast AHH—"
And soon after the other wolves followed the first one and not long after went the Shadowcat, all of them suddenly turning on the wildlings and feasting on their flesh.
"What the fuck! Warg! What are you doing?" Weeper screamed.
"It's not me," Varamyr cried, feeling another connection break in his mind "It's the enemy warg! He is controlling my animals—Ahhh!!"
At last, seeing the pandemonium around him, Weeper knew that the ambush this time had failed and immediately decided to run away, "Retreat! RETREAT!!" he screamed while backing away and trying to save as many of the warbands as he could from the arrows and the feral animals.
Varamyr had fallen down from the bear's back during the sudden rebellion of the animals under his control. Everything was blurry and his head was hurting from all the broken connection when he suddenly felt hot air behind his ear and his body suddenly froze up.
He slowly turned around his head to find the female bear growling at him from an arm's distance away and, he wasn't able to find a single trace of compassion in those massive eyes instead her cruel red eyes were filled with hate, hate that spoke of years of slavery and suppressed cruelty that she'd endured.
"W-Wait! Don't! I Am Your Master! OBEY ME!" Varamyr screamed incoherently as he stumbled backwards, his eyes turning white intermittently as he tried to regain control over the beast but it was futile as he was rebuffed again and again due to an additional sphere of protection around the beast's mind that he was sure was the work of the warg from the South.
"ROAR!!!!—"
The bear already very irritated at the puny two-legged turned even more angry at the repeated attempts to control her so she released all her anger and slammed her massive paws down on the little human head, "No! Sto—" and splattered the head in one shot over the snowy grounds.
Varamyr was even denied the chance to a second life that he had envisioned previously as all of his wargs were denied to him giving him a true death...