(LOG) THIS IS FOR STEPHEN COLBERT! (or Uhtred vs. The Bear)

Alexston, after seeing to it that all the Royals were greeted, that all formalities had been addressed and all were seated atop their horses, led them on the short trip to the side garden, where he'd readied an appropriate place for setting up before their plunge into the forest. "Gentlemen," he started in a clear voice that carried easily through the crisp springtime air, "I've mapped a route for our hunt. We're to head in an Easterly direction, where I've scouted a sufficiently-used game trail. Be on the alert for hares, deer, boar, grouse, and pheasants. With any luck, we may see an elk. I've provided maps in each of your saddlebags, should we get separated. Feel free to grap a spear from the nearby rack," he gestured to a slight wooden frame, furnished with freshly-sharpened spears, "if you feel you should need it. A tight rein on your horses is suggested. If it suits His Majesty and His Highness, I'll lead the way. Hopefully we'll flush something out. Everyone prepared?" He smiled.

Uhtred Valenti shouldered his own spear, turning his warhorse to the pressure of his knees to accustom him to the activity that was about to unfold. On this day he was no warrior. The chain mail had been replaced by thick, wool-hemmed leather that bunched around his neck to keep the still cool air from biting at his flesh. His hair was unbound and the usual stalks of his goatee had been combed out so that he appeared as some wild, overdressed beast. He was nervous, too, but only because he was being forced to socialize until this thing finally went under way. It helped that he had to keep himself apart from the majority of the gathering, for his warhorse was glaring at the other beasts in palpable offense; though the wolf received a particularly violent shiver from beneath Uhtred's thighs.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen had slept uncommondly well the previous night, his dreams light and easily forgotten. When he woke, he stole a few precious moments with his lady wife, merely laying. She'd seemed a little drawn, but waved off his concerns, and all too soon he'd had to rise and reclaim the trappings of his position. After tying up loose ends, the King took to his horse, where he was greeted by his son and heir, as well as the castle steward and Alexston. His weapon of choice for this Hunt was an enormous bow, too tightly strung for most normal men to wield effectively. Nodding in greeting to the guide and sharing his cordial greetings with the other participants, Wyld declined the offer of a spear. "I'm certain we'll manage to skin a wild dog, at least," he muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear, though there seemed no mirth behind the joke.

Christoph Valvogt couldn't help smiling from the back of his mount, the steward with rare enough reasons to ride. Duties usually kept him close, but they ranged wider now, his horse and those of the few likely lads he brought with him from the stables laden with wine and a small set of supplies, room mostly made for the game that would be caught. One of the boys reaching for a spear got a sharp shake of his head..they were there to assist, not to hunt unless invited. Still, he had his own bow strung over his back, quiver hanging from his horse on the off chance that he'd be allowed to join in the fun. Green eyes studied the crowd in silence, the man in livery seeming to sit at attention on his beast, waiting to bring up the rear of the group.

Teira sat alertly among the horsemen. The larger beasts made the wolf's intincts even more alert this day. Ears flickered this way and that, listening to the sounds of the outdoors. Lifting her nose, the she-wolf searched for the scent of prey on the wind. The scents of green, growing-things filled her senses, making the timber shiver with excitement. Occassionally, her gaze would shift from hunter to hunter, waiting until they started out themselves. Rosy tongue slipped over her black lips, it felt wonderful to be among a pack again...although she had to admit it, these were the ugliest wolves she had laid eyes on. But for people, they were good enough, and with their human weapons, the beast expected success.

Alexston, once certain that all were ready, nodded. "Let's go," he murmured with the smirk of a man who simply loved his chosen vocation. Fine recurve bow was pulled from over his shoulder and into his hands, fingers poised to draw back the string at any moment. A quick gesture was given in the direction of the forest that stretched out before them, and Sam nudged his horse forward into a trot, which would continue until they were well into the woods. Keeping an eye on the wolf, should she see fit to lope up ahead of them, Sam listened rather intently for rustles in the brush, or breaking twigs - anything that suggested there was game abound. Every several yards or so, he'd pull his horse to a stop and listen. The passing of small game was always present in the thick underbrush of the forest, and for now, Sam was setting his sights on larger targets. A heavy crack in the brush caught his attention! He gestured for the Royalty to come forward, realizing that they should receive the liberty of the first shot. Silently, a finger struck out toward shuddering leaves - probably a boar nosing around in the dirt, perhaps a young buck rubbing his antlers against the bark of some poor tree's trunk.

Ilgnuit Valenti had opted to skip out on the hunt, sending a guard to run his apologises down to the King in a short missive. Your Majesty, I regret to say that you were correct in believing I would catch a chill. Despite the warming therapy of your well recommended bath, I must decline your invitation to a royal hunt. I'm confident that you will bring home the biggest prize. Your faithful son, Prince Ilgnuit Valenti III. Meanwhile, he had things to discuss with his wife.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen all but ignored the wolf, his own warhorse wary but confident, mimicking the attitude of its Master. He had never got around to killing the thing, yet, though the thought of ending the last tie the castle had to Nefertise was rather disquieting. As soon as Alexston signalled, Wyld started forward, only to be flagged down by a running servant. He let the rest of the group get a lead on him as he reviewed the short note, his face falling into an accustomed frown; he thought he knew what Ilg would be up to while the rest of them were away...though, if it netted him a grandson, Wyld was not apt to protest too much. Dismissing the servant, the King moved to catch up with the tight-knit group, leaving the serving corps to lag behind. Trusting his steed to keep an easy pace, the King took a metal-tipped arrow from its quiver and knocked it onto the massive bow, starting the slow process of drawing even before he heard signs of any game. The crack took all of his attention; using his legs, he inched his horse forward, bringing the drawn bow up to his cheek, eyes scanning for any sign of the beast. Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen tensed when he caught a flash in his periphery, but before he could level his weapon, the young doe leapt across the path. His fingers burned to release the string, but he knew as soon as he saw the creature it would be a wasted shot. Would his son make the same judgment?

Christoph Valvogt pulled up his horse short when he heard the runner with the message, already turning his horse in the direction to deal with it when the King intercepted it...having expected the patriarch to have continued on with the hunt. He shuffled his lads back, giving the King room before they set off after the main group, his ears on alert. Eyes followed the first point from the huntsman, fingers itching to grab his bow but they stayed firm on his reigns. It was a difficult thing, keeping his focus on his lords rather than the game they hunted, eyes snapping after the doe for an instant.

Uhtred Valenti was enjoying himself, letting his steed take an easy pace to the side of the strange procession. His spear rested over his shoulders, his wrists wrapped around the heavy wood as he looked upwards into the tree's tops. It was good to see the green again, and Nharati flora was so very quick to spring back. The huntsman's signal snapped him back into focus, however, and he quietly joined his father to witness the prospective kill. He grimaced at the bow, for it required a skill he could never accustom himself to. The resulting deer was a nimble thing! It sprang away and he was disappointed to see the king loose his string, but understood. Uhtred hadn't even bothered with the beast. He wanted something big, something that could tear him in half should he make a mistake!

Teira paced forward, her ears pricked at the sound of rustling. Taking a deep breath, she scented a young doe. Her shoulder muscles flexed as she watched it run. All her instincts screamed at her to make chase after it. Standing up to her full height, she trotted swiftly after it, not looking back to see if the rest of her 'pack' followed her. She lost, much to her dismay, in the thicker brush, its speed carried it...well, speedily. Black nose dove to the ground, working its magic. She picked up its scent-trail quickly and began following it. A few yards from the group she looked back, blinking, wondering why they were letting an easy kill go.

Alexston's horse pawed impatiently at the ground as though he expected Sam, as usual, to take the shot. But no, the noble animal would simply have to wait, just as the Huntsman awaited the actions of the royalty - should they allow the doe to escape, so be it! When the wolf took pursuit, Sam was hot on her so-called heels and gestured at her, urging her forward. There was nothing like the nose of a canine to lead a hunting party to prey, and the huntsman knew how to read the signals. Should the wolf give any signal that the beast had stopped someplace, Sam would stop as well and once he spotted the doe, he'd gesture once more for His Majesty to knock his bow, if it had been relaxed. It would certainly be an easy kill that they could bag, and then turn back to their trail in favor of larger prey that would provide not only food, but a trophy for whomever happened to make a killing shot.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen slowly tensed the string of his bow once more when no one went after the fleet beast, preparing for the next prospective target. The crash of the wolf through the brush drew his eye but for an instant before he focused on the trail ahead, leaning forward in his saddle lest he be pitched off the back of it with a sudden movement. When the Hunt's leader took off through the brambles, following the narrower game trail, Wyld considered letting him go...but the twinge of pride urged him on, and soon enough he was plunging after Alexston's steed.

Alexston wanted, probably just as much as the other men, to be in hot pursuit of something larger as well. But of the mind that he had a castle's worth of revelers to feed, he simply couldn't bear watching their meal disappear into a thicket somewhere. Naturally, once he was confident with the fact that they would all be fed, he would lead them on a rather winding trail where he'd presumed to have seen a bear's den, earlier that winter. The perfect end for such a party of Royal hunters, with plenty of opportunities to spot more wild game on the way. The forest was alive, it seemed, teeming with wildlife that seemed to be springing back just as quickly as the flora.

Christoph Valvogt reigned in his eager mount who seemed to want to cut from the main trail to the smaller ahead of the others. Though the royalty focused on the big game, he found himself peering into the bramble, the thought of scaring out the smaller creatures that he often snared rumbling in the back of his mind. Wine jostled against the horse's flanks, the steward pausing to check that his supplies were firmly attached, nodding for his boys to do the same before they finally followed in a line. Honestly, if the royals weren't going to take that shot...but no, chaos would reign.

Teira's tail wagged slowly as some of the huntsmen followed. The doe's trail was still fresh among the brush. Despite the thicj smell of the spring flowers mixing in the fresh air, the young wolf could smell the doe's weakness: it was still young and inexperianced. In small clearing where the light dappled through the newborn leaves, she spotted the Bambi grazing. The timber was upwind from the future meal as she studied it. Guided by her instincts, she shifted downwind now, letting the doe scent her prescence. Instantly, the creature took off through the the brambles and bracken. Springing forward, the Varg chased in mad pursuit, ignoring the men. The doe was seemed in less-than-perfect condition, and the weakest specimans were the best targets in the canine's mind.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen crouched lower on his mount as it picked its way through the the narrower trail the doe had ran down, partially to keep himself from falling and partially to keep himself from being recognized as a human...many animals ran from men at first sight, but other creatures could often help gain an element of surprise, or so Wyld had been taught. He spotted the doe in that small clearing and prepared his shot, still hunkering low in the saddle, when that wretched dog came bolting out of the brush to frighten her off. Cursing loudly, he unknocked his bow, returning the arrow to its quiver. "Let it go, Sam. We might as well start hunting that blasted wolf as the doe."

Alexston chuckled heartily. "Of course, your Majesty," he said with a grin, before reigning his horse off in the opposite direction to either re-join the rest of the huntsmen if they'd stayed behind, or to fall once again upon that reliable trail that led them to their first possible kill for the day. At the instant the party was reunited, he called aside to the prince. "Prince Uhtred," he said quietly, nodding his head in the form of a brief, respectful bow, "I believe the next turn in this path will bring us to something that you may well be interested in. Keep an eye out, my Lords, for signs of the bear that's made his mark clear around this area. He's quite a large beast."

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen took up the reins of his horse, guiding the noble beast back around to the main trail. Sighing in frustration, he tried not to take his anger out on the horse, though he couldn't help tugging a bit forcefully on the leather. Once he'd re-joined the party, he sought out Christoph. "Steward," he barked irritably. "Wine." He did not hear mention of the bear, in which case he might not have succumb to the urge for drink, but as it was he could not wait to slake his thirst.

Uhtred Valenti followed his father with a lump in his throat. Not for beast, of course, but for whether or not his father would finally get the kill. The wolf had become a very welcome addition, and Uhtred's smile was optomistic when he navigated the thin path, righting his spear to make as minimal noise as possible. Until, that is, he heard Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen curse. He was late, and thus missed the wolf suddenly go rogue, but he made it in time to witness the last of the wolf's bloody tail. "No meat on his bones," he said decisively, though his spear shifted in his grip. The huntsman did very well to bring a grin back on the prince's face, however. A bear? What luck! A devilish scheme was already formulating in his brain... one that probably would have had him beaten, had his father known, but to hell with it. This was going to be a vicious hunt.

Christoph Valvogt pulled forward quickly, bowing over top his horse before pausing to deftly unsling one of the wineskins from his side. "Yes, Your Majesty." He extended it, waiting quietly for the man to take his fill. Talk of the bear caused his pulse to quicken, sidelong glance creeping to the elder prince unobtrusively, knowing his lords well enough to guess that he would like the sound of that. Once the wineskin was returned to him, he drew his horse back, letting the party get ahead of him as he shivered, anticipating the the possible match that lie ahead. A finger snapped at the sudden wary nervousness in his attending lads, each of them earning a dark glare that sent them into silence.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen came up short beside Christoph, taking the wineskin deftly. The cap was removed well before it reached his lips, and he took three large gulps of the sweet stuff before recapping the skin and handing it back to the younger man. Turning without a second thought, he drew level with his firstborn son. "Are you quite certain that sharp twig won't snap at the moment of action is upon us?" A glimmer lit in his fierce green eyes, his fingers already itching to re-knock his bow.

Teira continued after the doe, wondering when her companions would come and help. Snarling, the wolf lunged at the doe's rump. Fangs slid into the flesh easily, but the doe would tear herself away quickly. But this was the traditional hunting method for the wolf kind. She bit into the deer's rump repeatedly, crippling the cervine swiftly enough. Young, the doe would fall faster, and it was already feeling the effects of blood loss. Crimson stained the green grass as the doe turned and faced her attacker. The predator snapped the nose and neck, finally ending the pursuit of this animal. Panting, the wolf licked her lips, her muzzle stained red. A small, throaty howl sounded from the wolf in victory. She would have eaten it too, but the wolf's law-song dictated that the Alpha's ate first. And by the way the men acted toward one another, the Alpha was clear. So, she turned back and caught up with the hunters. She snorted, giving them an annoyed look, a "So where were you?" look.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen's eyes drew down at that low howl. The bloody thing would scare away any game worth catching before the day was through, he knew it. Breathing in the taste of the wine, he tried to calm himself even as the wolf dared to show its bloody muzzle, the King understanding little of lupine politics. Shaking his head, he resettled on his settle. "Well, men, our bellies won't be filled by whispering in the wood. Let us be off!" And with that, he urged his own steed into a slow trot up the path, carefully pulling the thick shaft of his arrow along the notch of the bow.

Uhtred Valenti glared at the wolf as it returned until he noticed the blood upon it. A soft laugh was given, though he was careful not to smile at the wolf; it was a sign of discontent, after all. "The hound gets first blood!" He found that particularly amusing. He reached down as though he was going to pet the creature, but found himself thinking better of it. "Find the deer," he snapped to the others following, and set off with his father. There was excitement in him. He could feel the rush in his legs as his horse picked a rapid pace behind the other, better-tempered beast. A bear. His mind was on the hunt, now. His eyes scoured the ground for familiar grooved prints, checked the bark of the trees for sharpening marks, even sniffed the air for the thick smell of fiur. The latter was useless, of course.

Alexston reined his horse in rather quickly, upon coming to a shallow pit in the ground, covered with grass and twigs. It led upward onto a knoll, and Sam pointed quickly at it. "There, Prince Uhtred. That bear's den lies just on the other side of that knoll there, the one with the log resting over the top of it. Would you like to lead the way, your Highness, or would you prefer that I be the bait?" He grinned devilishly toward his prince, gesturing all the while toward the den while he glanced back at the squire and his men who were hopefully in pursuit of the deer that had fallen victim to the wolf. "You're a fine hound," he commented softly to her, voice scarecely a whisper in fear of waking what was possibly a slumbering, and very grumpy bear nearby.

Christoph Valvogt pointed a finger at two of his lads and gestured them off the way the wolf had come. "You heard His Highness. Retrieve the deer and rejoin us!" He commanded to the pair who rode off the direction she had come from, making slightly more noise than Christoph thought wise. A grumble sounded in his throat, but he slipped a hand into his saddle bag to find a chunk of dried meat. He tossed it to the wolf in appreciation before prodding his mount on after the royal party, eyes locked on the hunters. Skin prickled as the den came into sight, and he hung back, glancing to see if his lads were returning yet...though his gaze returned quickly to the elder prince.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen came to a stop nearly too close behind Sam's beast, though the King fought to remain atop his mount. Successfully holding his primed weapon, he looked up the hill where the Huntsman gestured, a small thrill of fear sounding in the depths of his chest. He had faced bears before, of course, but the danger did not seem trivial with experience. His throat felt suddenly parched, as it did before the heat of battle. He yielded to his son's obviously overflowing eagerness, however. His bow could work from almost any distance, and might even suffice to fell the creature if it proved small enough. All attention seemed to be on that hilltop, or on Prince Uhtred, and Wyld was no exception.

Teira wagged her tail at the sound of Alexton's soft praise. She didn't need to know the language to understand kind words. Licking her muzzle clean again, not wishing to alert the forest or other predators to the smell of deer blood. Her tail wagged faster as a real prize was tossed to her. Skillfully she caught it in mid-air, and chewed it gratefully, and quite pleased that her effort was apparently appreciated. Then, she followed at the heels of the horses, keeping a leisurely pace as to not waste energy. The rank stench of bear filled her nostrils, making the wolf's muscles tense. Wolves and bears were never good friends, or casual aquaintences. She cast a longing look back where her deer fell, it was safer back there. But, she followed the pack and shook her head, wondering why in the world a group of humans who barely had any fangs and no claws would want to face a bear. Not even a pack of real wolves was a guarenteed match for a healthy bear. What fools these hunters could be!

Uhtred Valenti waved off the hunter, though he did it with a grin. No, this one was his. He put his horse into a slow, careful tread that snaked his way to the knoll. His neck cracked as he stuck the spear into the ground. A rather unusual thing... but suddenly, his intentions became clear as he dropped from his horse. The den was presented to him like a dark cavern-spider's lair, unsure and unnering... His broadsword was in his hand, now. It was a ridiculous concept, fighting a bear with a sword, but Uhtred was in a mood. A crooked smirk was given to his father and the hutsman as he slapped his horse's rump, pointing it off to a thick tree as a reference. Feet slid on the ground, disturbing leaves and brush, and with a deep sigh he turned to the den and said quite plainly: "Come. Out."

Alexston looped carefully around behind his Prince, though he kept a safe distance not to be noticed. The Huntsman had already proven himself to be quite adept with a bow, just as he was certain his King was as well. Lifting that fine, prized bow of his, he knocked his own arrow within the right string and gently placed the arrow's fletching against his cheek as a guide. Eyes were tense on the den of the bear, mindful that his prince was doing something really rather crazy. He'd not make a single sound, in fear once again of awakening the beast, though he'd be certain to sink the metal tip of that arrow into the bear's heart, should something go awry. Not that he doubted his prince, of course - that would be treason, after all...

Christoph Valvogt utterly forgot that he was supposed to be waiting for the boys to return with the deer when Uhtred rid himself of his spear. Brows furrowed, quickly realizing what the Prince meant to do, and a stab of fear rolled through the pit of his stomach. Though uninvited, he knocked an arrow, holding steady aim on the entrance to the bear's den, attention taking on a razor's edge. Breathing leveled out, the steward unwilling to let the Prince die while he had bow in hand. Of course, he'd not stop the approach, but should fate take a turn against the Prince...

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen had to admit that the doe wasn't a bad catch; venison would fit the plates of the castle rather nicely. He paid hardly any attention to the stragglers, however, his adrenaline already beginning to pump even though no real signs of the bear had been made manifest. He shared no words of well-wishes with his son as the younger man threaded up the hill, wanting to follow, but holding back. Uhtred had found his own glory in spades, and did not need an old man shadowing him. He drew his larger bow, the feathers tickling over his furred cheek, training his sights on the den's entrance. A rare marksman, especially given the weight of his weapon, he would be ready to cover any eventuality, much like the Hunt's leader beside him.

Teira hung back, knowing well enough not to get too close to the den. The bear would probably be just coming out of its winter sleep, and if it were a female bear, there would be a chance at cubs being present; a mother bear was not something to be messed with. So, wolf sat down near the younger man's horse. Her yellow eyes would peak over to the dark den curiously, although she was not brave enough or foolish enough to join the prince in his hunt. A very soft growl rumbled in her chest, preparing mentally if the bear was more than the prince could bare.

Uhtred Valenti gave a soft sigh, squaring his sight into the dark, trying to peer into the depth. "If anyone one of you take this sod down before I do..." he shouted grimly. He could almost feel the bristling of arrows bearing down on his direction. His feet brushed the ground to secure his footing and he looked behind his shoulder to the lot... just as the bear came. It had been aroused and angered, the burst of guttural, bestial noise rushing almost as quickly as the bear. It was a pure attack. No hesitance, no warning... The massive beast was throwing itself at the man, who turned his head, and was still prepared. The prince's eyes closed, brief smile upon his face... and then his body twisted, pushing off of the ground, letting the bear launch past him. His sword was whipping, high and diagonal slash, cutting into... nothing. Unsteady footing, stumbling backwards and holding his sword back as the bear turned, lifted itself up, and bellowed.

Alexston felt himself holding his breath in a rare moment of tension. It was the same feeling he got each and every time he were about to shoot a particularly large prey, or one that would prove a suitable trophy to grace the walls of the castle or a nobleman's manor. Of course this time, there just so happened to be much more at stake: the life of the elder Prince of Nharati. The bear's harrowing bellow was what drew him out of his otherwise rigid state of contemplation. Green eyes widened briefly before narrowing once more to better peer into the dark. "Ready yourself, your Majesty, if you haven't already," he murmured aside to his King. Although he was certain that His Majesty had already done that long before it had been mentioned, he was not willing to peel his eyes from the Prince in the interests of looking. "Yourself as well, Squire. We may just need you." His advice was rather firm, and altogether grave.

Christoph Valvogt almost lowered his weapon at the Prince's shout, but he glanced at the King to take his cue. Even with fear for the Crown Prince pumping through his veins, he couldn't help admiring the beast erupting from the den. Its roar shook the ground, Christoph's horse dancing anxiously, eyes rolling in terror such that he was forced to clamp down with his knees, steadying, soothing words dripping from his lips far calmer than he felt. The huntsman's words were met with a sharp nod, the whispers of the returned lads falling on deaf ears for once. It was with no little envy, he watched the Prince's skilled movements..even if he missed. "No doubt His Highness wishes a fine fur for his Lady." He remarked quietly, arrowhead following the bear.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen could only smirk with pride, even as his fingers itched to release the arrow into the as-yet-unseen bear's hide. He could only hope that Uhtred would not be foolish enough to chase the blasted thing out of the den personally. His fears proved unfounded when the beast lumbered into the light, all sound and fury backed up with hundreds of pounds of wild-forged muscle and claws. His whole body tensed, the ripple of anxiety moving through his horse via his legs. The moment of truth was upon them, and even Wyld's worries about his patrimony and succession gave way to the sheer excitement of combat. WHen the man stumbled he issued a hiss. "Don't let her back you into her den," he whispered under his breath, knowing better to call out aloud when his son was concentrating so mightily.

Teira got to her feet and padded nervously about as the bear's roar thundered from the cave. A growl rumbled from her as she bared her teeth and her tail lifted as she watched the Crown Prince's fight. The fear-scent that eminated from the horses made her growl louder as she took a few paces backward. She cast anxious glances from man to man, wondering why they weren't helping take the beast down too. She would never understand the ways of the human pack. She shook her head and continued her warning snarls if the hairy brute of a bear should come nearer to the other hunters.

Alexston's keen ears caught the King's whisper as it fell from his lips. Silently, he agreed. But watching Prince Uhtred was a thing of wonder - never once had the Huntsman the privilege of watching the warrior apply himself, and never had he suspected that he'd have the opportunity to do so in such a fashion. Tirelessly, he held his arrow at the ready and tuned out the rest of the world, save for the sounds of both bear and man engaging in what an age-old, primal struggle to find a place at the top of the food chain. From the corner of his eye, he watched that wolf pace about. "Come here, Hound," he murmured, jerking his head in the appropriate direction. Should Prince Uhtred need any sort of assistance whatsoever, he'd have certainly liked the wolf to be poised enough to do such a thing. Though, being as she was a wolf and not the simple hound that the title suggested, he realized she was probably far more adept - and knowledgeable - about bears, and was likely to be more wary.

Uhtred Valenti scowled, feeling as though the bear and offended him. When it bellowed, he dropped out of his ready stance and bellowed back. Damn thing! It refused to fight fair! And suddenly he was charging it. Now, for a beast of these particular dimensions, to be attacked in such a way is not precisely commonplace. So, unprepared, it lumbered forward on his hind paws, stretching itself out to simply slam itself on the approaching man; crush him under the sheer weight and lodge its teeth into his skull. But Uhtred was swift. He raced into the clutches and abruptly broke left again, ducking under the arms and sliding his sword over his head so that it hit thickly amongst the fur, cutting deep into flesh and pouring blood onto his back... and receiving a rather vicious smack to the back of his head. He never saw it coming. One moment he was slaying the beast, and the next he was on the ground, bleary eyed and wondering just what the hell had happened. Except the beast was not dead.

Teira paced towards the voice that spoke to her, easily recognizing the signal. Nervous, she could smell her own fear-scent the came off of her in waves. The fur along her spine bristled and she continued to growl, pulling back her lips to show her lovely fangs. Her muscles were tensed, prepared to spring away and flee or to spring into the fight. The metalic scent of blood filled the air, making her more energetic and tense. Licking her lips from sheer nervousness, she watched on with pricked ears. She flinched as the Prince was struck, her snarls growing louder. Once again, she looked up to the humans sitting on the horses with an anxious glance.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen's eyes kept rapt to the dance, almost disbelieving when his son actually charged the massive creature. "No!" He hissed loudly, grip on his bow almost to the point of snapping the string. He took aim, hearing his hearbeat slow as the adrenaline flooded his veins. He thought Uhtred might have gotten the damned thing with that swordcut...but, of course, such a nick was as likely as not to anger the bear rather than truly weaken it. Without further thought he released the reinforced arrow, which sliced a smooth arc through the still air. It was in flight even before Uhtred was struck; still caught up in the moment, Wyld dropped his bow, taking up the reins of his stallion and urging him up that knoll. What he expected to do without even a blade, he did not know...but his son was staring in the face of death, and Wyld could not leave him to die.

Alexston followed the King's lead, and easily released his arrow toward the bear as well, though it was aimed to weaken the creature by sinking its metal tip deep into the flesh of the beast's back. "Come on!" he called to Teira - such a wonderous beast would most certainly be recognized later, by the Huntsman, who had long ago learned to appreciate such creatures. Digging his heels into the flanks of his lean steed, he charged forward to fall to Prince Uhtred's aide as well, and he quickly slung his bow over his back in favor of a spear. Before he running beast even came to a full hault, Sam released himself from the saddle and hit the ground at a dead run, stopping just on the outside of the den. Beside the fact that he wouldn't allow the Prince to fall victim to such a beast, nor would Sam allow the King such a fate, either. He waited for an opening.

Christoph Valvogt's own blood surged when the blow struck true, excitement flooding him as he watched the battle, but a cry passed his lips to echo the King's when the broad paw caught the Crown Prince. Without a second thought, he loosed the arrow on a high path aimed for the beast's head...though likely bouncing off its hard skull. The world churned around him as he realized not only was the Crown Prince in danger, but the King too had ridden off unarmed to take on the bear. Kneeing his horse to charge up the hill, he snagged the Prince's abandoned spear with a grunt, nearly pulling his smaller frame from the saddle. Hissing at the jolt to his shoulder, he called out to the King. "Your Majesty!" Spear was held high, ready to be tossed haft-wise to the monarch should he accept it.

Teira followed the two men, racing at the bear. Her heart pounding, her ears roaring at its sound, she made a mad dash at the beast. Leaping, she flew at the bear from behind, sinking her teeth into the softer flesh of its ear. Hanging on as it swung her back and forth, hit it madly with her claws, they were duller, much duller than a bear's, but the could keep it distracted from the wound royalty. She clung on as long as she could hoping to dodge the bear's likely counter strikes with its massive paws.

Uhtred Valenti was acutely aware of shouts and bellows. The bear, likewise, was particularly distressed by the sudden things that protruded from his body. The beast turned, for Uhtred was no longer a fighting factor in its mind, and bellowed at the attackers. It knew it would have to run, but pride was a terrible thing even in animals. The sight of a spear caused some peculiar instinctive memory in the beast, and it turned... to find Uhtred on his feet. His head was ringing and his eyes watered, but the distinct thought of BEAR OH GOD brought him up, sword still clutched in his hand. His own name was on his lips in a nearly incomprehensible scream as he put his sword on his shoulder. It was his characteristic attack: Feet twisted into a spin, turning himself diagonal into the air and letting the momentum swing the blade away from his shoulder and extend his arm into a down-left chop that sank into the beasts' shoulder. Fluid, like a dancer. The wolf hit then, and Uhtred knew that this kill was going to be shared by the rest of his hunt; vaguely aware of incoming hooves.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen's entire world was the vibrations beneath his horse's hooves, the feel of the reins in his hands, the strain of his voice as he yelled. Oblivious was he to the movements of Sam, his mind locked on the fate of his son. He would rather die than see Uhtred torn down so brutally, and by the way he ran, he seemed intent on fulfilling that preference. Christoph's yell broke through this haze, though, and the glance back at the steward brought home the fact that WYld was completely unarmed. His hand reached out to grasp the wooden haft, which was tossed rather elegantly and caught with miraculous precision. Using the momentum of his gallop, he flung the spear with all his still-considerable strength; it was a wonder the weapon flew true, thudding deep into the bear's flank. Rather than stopping up short, Wyld arced his mount around, coming to a slower stop just as his son delivered the next blow. "Move back, boy!" He screamed. "You've won! Don't be a fool!"

Alexston, just as he'd been worried of the Princess Garnett's untimely death, was also worried of the possibility of Uhtred's, should the bear get desperate. He watched with wonder as the King's spear flew into the beast's flank, and Sam threw his own spear into the bear's shoulder in hopes of incapacitating one of those dangerous upper-legs. "He's right, your Highness!" The Huntsman yelled, voice booming with an obvious desperation. "Don't let her corner you," he advised, watching as the wolf hung from the enraged beast. Wild eyes watched Prince Uhtred intently beneath a furrowed brow, breath held as he waited for that sword to plunge into the bear's heart, with any luck at all. Fear gripped his own heart, and his fists clenched as though he too were about to join the fray.

Christoph Valvogt's voice died off once he'd tossed the King the spear, the steward watching in fascinated silence. The spear flew true from Wyld's hand, as he had known it would..far better than his own. He stared as Uhtred pressed the attack, the wolf ..though he was grateful for her, scarcely noticed. It was the wild thing that the Prince was on the hunt that held the steward's attention, so different from the controlled noble of the castle. His heart thundered in his ears, the steward unable to take his eyes from the scene. Swallowing hard, he knocked an arrow once more, hearing his boys ride up behind him..one lad with the King's massive weapon in his hands, the youth pale and terrified.

Teira's hold on the bear's ear was slipping. Desperately, the wolf leaped off the bear back onto the ground. Hardly aware of the voices of the men, she went for the bear again, sensing that the bear might be weakening from the wounds made by the hunters. Fangs soon hit the flesh on the side of the bear's neck. Four paws scrambled to keep her grip as she dangled. But the bear's fur and hide were rather thick, and the wolf felt as if she were not making much damage here. But, she attempted to hold onto their target. The wild canine could feel herself growing dizzy with the combat, but it only made her want to feel the bear's flesh between her jaws more.

Uhtred Valenti's bear was failing. It knew, and so it decided to take the last moments of its life and apply it to killing the man who had attacked him. It thrashed, snapped its jaws at him, bellowed in pain as spear shafts appeared in its flesh. It was losing the ability to stand, swiftly now, and Uhtred could only smirk at the man who had brought him into the world. He could do no wrong, in this moment. The joy was upon him. A paw would swing at his face and he would numbly jump and thrust his broadsword into the side of the monster When teeth gnashed at him, he thrust the pommel down on the fellow's snout. He did not know anything more but to kill the beast, who was nearly done as it was. It slumped, more blood seeping from the sword strikes, but more damage done by the spears that unbalanced it.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen drew a long arrow from his quiver, only belatedly realizing he had shirked his bow at the bottom of the knoll. Turning his steed around, he held the long shaft as if it were a short spear, preparing to charge the bear down in another sweeping maneuver; it wasn't guaranteed the beast would fall, even with the latest swordcut. Wyld had seen many bearhides ruined from the sheer damage to the pelt it took to bring them down. It was then he noticed the wolf hanging from the bear's ear, and his opinion of the fine and noble creature changed instantly....certainly there would be a place set at the table to honor such a brave example of excellence. Soon enough, though, he realized that the fight was done. Canting closer on his mount, he let out a long, low laugh that resolved into a hearty yell of truimph. "Well done, you foolhardy boy!"

Alexston, breathlessly, peered at the bear for several long moments until he was sure that it was good and dead. "A fine job, your Highness," he complimented, before eyes were cast around to the King, the steward, and finally the wolf. "A brave creature," he praised her, reaching down to offer his scent unto her, and to gently pat her between the ears - but only if she allowed him to do so without any hint of reluctance. "Your bear, Highness, will certainly supply plenty of food to the feast, along with a lovely rug for the floor of your Royal chamber." He'd neglect the mentioning that he knew a good tanner - that conversation could certainly be had at a later time. Leaving father and son to their own devices, Sam wandered back toward his steed, who was slightly more ill-at-ease than he usually was, simply due to the battle that'd only just been had. A firm pat was afforded to the neck of the beast, who nickered quietly at the attention.

Christoph Valvogt couldn't help smiling as the fight fell to the Prince's skill, pride in his ruling family washing through him. An appreciative yell for the show and for the conquering Prince erupted from his lips, the lads echoing him excitedly as he laughed. Rapidly, he freed wineskins from his horse, juggling three of them in his hands as he rode in closer, ready to give the men drink if they desired even if his mount was decidedly unhappy at the prospect. "Well fought, Your Highness! A drink to celebrate? My lads will see the carcass to the castle, of course." His lads were, at the moment, looking at him as if he'd lost his mind, Christoph certain he would have to stay behind to marshall them even near the dead beast.

Teira let the brute's neck go as she realized that Prince had struck the final blow. She shook her head and, panting, she retreated back to the hunting party. Sitting down, she licked her lips. Noticing the offered hand, she pressed her wet nose to it to sniff, happily welcoming the friendly pat. Her golden gaze remained on the bear, just in case it should move. But the rank stench of bear mixed with scent of blood and adrenaline told her it was finished. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to the sky, silently giving thanks for both of the lives of the deer and bear and how much meat they would provide. Her tail wagged slowly at the thought of the food that the bear would provide.

Uhtred Valenti put a blood-soaked hand to his head. He hadn't considered whether the pelt was ruined or not. Indeed, if he had he would have taken a different course of action entirely. The whole contest had only lasted a few seconds, but the prince felt more exhausted than he had in the shield wall. "Almost had me," he murmured, giving the corpse a good kick before backing away from it. The wineskin was taken up thankfully, but did not yet drink. "Do you suppose he had me?" He put that question to the forum, rubbing at the jolting pain in his head. He hadn't been prepared to take the blow. He found himself dizzy, and backing away from the corpse with a whole new sort of reverence. It was a beast of an animal!