"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing, you idiot; for once in your life could you stop thinking with your little head and think with the big one?! I told you to go and feed her; nothing else. What are you crazy; don't even think about sullying this witch and damaging the goods before we sell her; or else we might not receive the full payment for her. By messing with her, you could be messing with my cut; and that's not going to happen ... right? So, just keep it in your pants or so help me God I swear I'll personally kick your scrawny ass ... then hand you over to Hildara myself."
He takes a large gulp of wine from the new jug, then emphasizes to drive his point home...
"Christ, if she were to find out about something like that happening, there isn't a doubt in my mind that she'd have both of your heads on a platter, if you catch my drift. And I'm damn sure that considering the way you like to play around, you wouldn't want that to happen; would you? "
The tall, lanky gypsy meekly shakes his head as it slowly sinks down into his shoulders, resembling that of a turtle drawing its head back into its shell.
"Good; then it looks like we have ourselves an understanding. Now, go and wash them dirty bowls and spoons over there ... and don't forget to scrub out that pot while you're at it."
The rebuked gypsy sulks as he slowly shuffles away like a scolded puppy with its tail between its hind legs. The burly gypsy swallows another large gulp of wine from the jug, then turns around and looks into the wagon at the young witch.
"Now that that's all taken care of; you, eat."
He slams the door shut and fastens the padlock back on the hasp. Once again left alone in the darkness of the wagon, tears begin to trickle down Ariel's cheeks. She doesn't understand why she's in the situation she's in now; nor does she know how she's going to get out of it.
After a few minutes, Ariel finally moves away from the corner she had scrunched herself into and blindly feels around in the dark, picking up the scattered pieces of food scraps she happens to come across and puts them in her mouth; forcing herself to eat.
The last hour of their watch...
After having consumed a little more than half of the second jug of wine, the burly gypsy is completely inebriated and past-out cold on the ground. The tall, lanky gypsy, full of resentment and childish pettiness, has spent most of this time scowling at the slumbering drunkard; occasionally giving him rudely lewd gestures as he snores away.
At this time, a few of the perimeter torches have already completely burnt out, and that once blazing campfire is on its way out soon as well; with nothing left now but a heap of flickering glowing embers gradually fading away. Unfortunately, the awoken sober one on watch is a bit cowardly and refuses to venture off alone to gather more firewood for the dying campfire. Truth is, he won't even go as far as to replace the burnt-out perimeter torches with new ones by himself either. So, it appears that the encampment won't be properly illuminated again until the next watch takes over.
Their shift is almost over, when all of a sudden, he hears what sounds like rustling about in a nearby thicket. The tall, lanky gypsy quickly rushes over to the still passed-out burly gypsy and vigorously shakes him.
"Hey, wake up; I think I heard something. I think someone's coming over here. ... Hey, you hear me; wake up damn it."
Even after that vigorous shaking all the burly gypsy does is gruffly snort out in his sleep and rolls over; then continues snoring loudly. Scared and irate, the tall, lanky gypsy jumps to his feet and delivers a good swift kick to his past-out partner. Nothing; no response whatsoever. He grumbles...
"Good for nothing, fat, lazy drunken bastard."
He hears more rustling coming from the thicket; this time sounding even closer than before. With his voice slightly cracking, he nervously calls out in the direction of the noise...
"Who's that? Is anybody out there?"
An ominous dark figure eerily emerges from the thicket. It's dressed in all black clothing, with a drawn down hooded cape and shawl draped around its neck, obscuring the view of its face. The figure is imposingly tall ... even taller than the gypsy himself ... but there's clearly nothing lanky in its stature.
It neither moves nor speaks; it simply stands there motionless like some sort of gothic statue emanating a menacing aura.
Moving on from scared to terrified, the tall, lanky gypsy delivers another swift, hard kick to his past-out partner ... then another ... and yet another. The inebriated gypsy finally comes to...
"What the hell ... do you want your ass kicked, or what?!"
He angrily glares up at the tall, lanky gypsy, who is so frightened that he's unable to speak; so, he just points over to the menacing dark figure. The burly gypsy laboriously struggles to stand up on his feet. Once upright ... or at least as upright as he can be in his drunkard condition ... he turns around and notices what his trembling partner is pointing out.
With a natural bravado which the other is clearly lacking, the burly gypsy wobbly staggers in towards the dark figure.
"Who the hell are you? What are you doing here? What do you want?"
It finally speaks; with a deep, low, raspy tone...
"I want the witch."
The burly gypsy gaffes, "Oh, I see; you want the witch now, do you? Sure, fine; just pay us fifty large gold coins and she's all yours. ... Know what, no; make that a hundred large gold coins, and you got a deal. What do you say to that?"
The dark figure repeats, "I want the witch."
The burly gypsy retorts, "And I want payment for the witch. So, if you want her that bad be prepared to pay for..."
The dark figure brusquely cuts him off, "I want the witch. Give her to me ... or I'll take her myself."
By this time, the verbal altercation had awoken and drawn the attention of the other gypsies in the envoy. They start leave their wagons and gather behind the burly gypsy, who once again gaffes at the dark figure...
"Now look what you've gone and done, you woke up my comrades. Well, I suppose this is starting to turn out being a bit of a sticky situation for you; isn't it? Tell me something, do you still think you're going to be able to take the witch away all by yourself now?"
Still speaking in a deep, low, raspy tone the dark figure forebodingly responds...
"Of course I can. I can do it in a heartbeat with ease." He pauses briefly before ominously telling them, "But when did I ever say that I was by myself?"
A shared sensation of unnerving trepidation suddenly befalls upon the gypsies. Their bodies begin to tense up as they anxiously look about peering into the surrounding darkness. The dark figure speaks out one last time in that bone-chillingly deep, low, raspy tone, this time clearly conveying obvious intended malevolence in his delivery...
"Ordinarily, if I were by myself, all of you would be dead by now. But since it just isn't me this time, why would I deprive the others of their chance to have some fun, as well? ... So, come forth my minions; come out and play."
In an instant, about a dozen and half demonic imps charge out from the shadows, swarming in from every direction surrounding the encampment. Fiercely exposing their razor-sharp fangs while flailing about equally as sharp claws, the imps aggressively pounce upon the seemingly stone-petrified gypsies.
They mercilessly use those deadly fangs and claws to sink in and rip away at their victims' flesh, tearing apart their bodies limb by limb. and disemboweling the torsos in a mad frenzy.
Ariel, who had finally just managed to fall asleep, is abruptly awakened by the blood-curdling screams of the mauled gypsies during the onslaught.
During the carnage of the ensuing melee, body parts are haphazardly thrown about; with some of the flying 'human debris' pounding against the sides of the wagon she's in. This frequent pounding, along with those incessant screams, has put Ariel into a panicked state leaving her petrified. She has no idea what's happening outside ... she only hopes that whatever it is will stay out there.
Ariel remains cowering in the back corner of the wagon with her back pressed firmly up into it, while leaning over with her ear pressed against the side listening to the horrific cacophony resounding outside. All of a sudden, she hears what sounds like a faint wolf's howl in the distance; then everything becomes eerily silent. A few moments of that unnerving silence pass, and then she hears it. More wolf howling ... and it's rapidly drawing in towards the encampment.
Suddenly, another horrific cacophony starts up; but this time those blood-curdling screams have been replaced with menacing guttural growls along with demonic bellows and screeches. And like before, a panic-stricken Ariel remains cowering in the corner of the wagon with her back pressed into it; as well as her ear pressed against the side listening to the ongoing massacre. Then that horrific cacophony stops almost as suddenly as it had started, and that eerily unnerving silence returns.
A terrified Ariel remains motionless, sitting in the darkness of that wagon with bated breath. Suddenly ... both back doors of the wagon are violently ripped off from their hinges; then two large imposing lycans jump into the wagon. Ariel immediately blacks out.