It took him months to track the beast down and one too many unpleasant encounters, it was all too much for the pitiful amount of coins he'd get in turn. This was probably the worst, most pathetic contract he'd ever taken in his entire fucking life.

"Could have been nice and snug in a brothel somewhere, suffocating between someone's thighs," he grumbled, shaking some snow off of his hood as he continued through the mountains. "Instead I'm hunting some low-pay sheep-stealing beast in the middle of fucking nowhere."

This was not the first time Valmar signed a shit contract. It appeared to happen every single time he entered a tavern in some shabby village. His sweet soft heart just couldn't ignore the woes of troubled peasants. And no, getting shit-faced had nothing to do with that.

He stopped briefly in front of a large mouth of a frozen cave. "Cozy," he huffed, making his way inside with his sword at the ready.