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The next day towards nightfall, Mangey Yellow-fang, half-starved with hunger, led his pack of wolves in a headlong charge towards the boy, the pixy and the dwarf. Their empty bellies drove them forward at breathtaking speed for the kill. The dwarf barely had time to leap to his feet and shout a warning and the boy scarcely time to snatch out his orb—but what an orb! At the sight of it, old Yellow-fang dug in his front paws and skidded to a halt. The pursuing wolves tumbled and barged into him, but his wary eyes never left the orb. He did not approach, for the creature that held the orb was content to stand its ground, and Yellow-fang sensed danger. The pain in his belly grew sharper in the knowledge that he would have to go hungry a while yet. The pack-leader didn’t know why he was so a
