"Talk, then we'll decide if we're helping or not." I crossed my arms. The night felt colder all of a sudden, and I wasn't sure if it was the air or the situation.
I shifted from foot to foot, watching Mestin closely. He was a hard read, his eyes darting as if he expected trouble from every shadow.
"Fine," he muttered finally, scratching at his stubble. "But it’s not that simple.”
"Make it simple,” Daniel said, grumpily.
The werewolf sighed. "See, I had a place here. A house in these woods."
"Here?" I asked, my voice sharp with disbelief.
"Quiet and out of the way," he continued, his gaze dropping to the ground. "But then... the committee, and that other guy, they started squabbling over the land. They found my spot and kicked me out."
"Just like that?"
"Yep. They just booted me out of my home. And for what? So the woods can sit empty?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I’ve been hopping around ever since, makeshift shelters and all. Can't afford anything else, not with the way things are."
"Why?" I pressed.
"Let's just say," he huffed a humorless laugh, "if I had a penny for every time I've been booted off somewhere, I'd be rich enough to not worry about the ridiculous housing costs around these parts."
"Right," I said, leveling a skeptical look in his direction. "And we're supposed to feel sorry for you?"
"I didn’t say that." Mestin looked away. "I’m just explaining is all. You were the one who asked."
"Explaining," I echoed, the word tasting bitter. "You've got more explaining to do, Finespike. Explain this then." I gestured toward the hole with the dead unicorn. "Your traps."
Mestin's eyes shifted, guilt flitting across his face before he schooled it into an expression of resignation. He sighed, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with a regret that didn't quite convince.
"I wasn’t aiming for anything... magical." He kicked at a loose stone. "I just set traps for the committee members. That other guy too. I didn’t want them finding me."
"And?" I prompted, arms crossed.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "One day, I heard a sound. Rushed over, thinking I caught one of 'em."
"Caught who?" My patience was thinning.
"One of those assholes. Instead, I found a unicorn." Mestin looked away, his jaw clenched tight. "Dead in my trap."
"You’re the one who's been killing unicorns?" I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear it from him.
"It was an accident," he said quickly, too quickly. "I didn’t mean for it to happen. At least the first time…"
"That doesn’t change that it did." I was outwardly calm, but inside, anger churned like a storm.
"Look," he said with an edge, "It was initially an accident, but then I remembered... unicorn horns, they're valuable."
"Valuable enough to..." I couldn't finish the sentence.
"Cut it off, yeah." He met my gaze now, defiant. "I had to make do. I needed something to get me out of the mess."
"By taking advantage of a dead creature?"
"It wasn’t like I wanted to," Mestin snapped back. "But there's no use crying over spilled magic, is there?"
I shook my head in disbelief. "You're unbelievable."
"Maybe." He shrugged, and in that shrug, I saw the full weight of his opportunism. "But it's done. I can’t undo it."
