‘What the hell happened’? She croaked, her voice raspy. Thats when he appeared. He was tall, unshaven, and rugged, probably in his mid- to late-50s, and he was bringing her a mug of coffee. He did not smile. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered and gulped down the hot brown liquid as if it were nectar. ‘Where am I?’ ‘You’re in my hunting cabin, in the depths of Oakley Woods.' God knows what a woman thinks she is doing here, all alone with all those damn wolves out there. I found you lying on a rock; you musta passed out, and you're lucky the wolves didn’t find you first! City woman, are you? If there is one thing more irritating than those blasted wolves, it's city folk. Stick to your shops and nightclubs; you know nothing about the country! Now I'm going to have to drive you to the hospital, and that's the last thing I need when I'm busy getting rid of these darn wolves!!' She was grateful for his help and his shelter, and most definitely for his coffee, but his aggressive and patronising tone was starting to irk her, and there was something about the vibes he gave out that was just, well, off. He reeked of tobacco, sweat, and unhappiness.