The rustling of leaves broke the silence as Fenrir emerged from the forest, his wheelchair moving steadily despite the uneven terrain. His face was calm, though a faint hint of weariness lingered in his expression. The priest, who had been anxiously pacing, froze in place before rushing toward him. Relief washed over the man's face, his earlier guilt amplifying his concern.
"Are you alright? Did the beast hurt you?" the priest asked, his voice tinged with desperation.
Fenrir offered a faint smile, his tone measured and reassuring. "It's gone. You don't need to worry anymore."
But the priest wasn't satisfied with mere words. Dropping to one knee, he reached out, clearly intent on examining Fenrir for injuries. "Let me check. You may not realize if you've been harmed—"
