Valan had broken camp in the morning, along with his companion and fellow hunter, and the two had quickly picked up the trail of the beast they'd been tracking. The wolf, a giant by most standards, was rabid and wild. He'd first been spotted to the far west of the area in the Brecellian that Valan's clan had been inhabiting. They had known then that the creature needed to be put down. It was a danger to any and all whom it came across. It would be mad and violent, killing without hunger, without need or reason. It would spread disease that would sicken other creatures and elves alike.
They'd tracked the beast west even further, leaving their own home behind, and lost it's trail once or twice before hearing rumors that it was plaguing the wilders not far from the forests edge. To be truthful, they might consider the animal no longer their problem, but despite the tense situations between Dalish and Shemlen, the wilders had always shown a respect for nature, living alongside it rather than destroying it, and Valan knew that they might not have the warriors or the training to eliminate the beast.
So he and the other elf had pushed onwards, finally making a small camp for the night. They rose just before the dawn, dousing the fire and offering up a prayer to the gods to protect them. Valan was armed with a pair of shortswords, while the other carried his bow. The tracks and traces of blood in the underbrush had led them to a river, where the shadow of the beast could be made out against the growing light over the horizon. A mass of fur and sinew, pelt streaked with blood and gore, it hunched over the water, lapping greedily.
Then in the distance, a sound, the sharp snap of a twig breaking and the creature was up, a growl building in it's throat. An arrow was loosed at the beast, burying into it's flank between the ribs and it yelped, whirling on it's attacker as Valan crept quietly around the side to flank it. Another volley of arrows flew from the tree where his companion had taken shelter. Wolves did not have skills for climbing. One just nicked the shoulder of the creature and bounced away. The other speared into the wolf's chest just above his front leg, impeding his gait as he stumbled a moment, still rushing for the offending tree.
Before he could reach it, Valan was upon him, leaping onto the creatures back with all of the agility one expected from the Dalish. The wolf nearly collapsed under it's weakened limb, snapping it's foaming jaws. Valan dug one blade deep into it's back and it yelped loudly, blood spurting forth from the wound. It splattered at his hands and arms. That might have killed it, but the beast struggled still, trying to buck Valan from it's back. Valan made as if it go for the throat, but the snapping jaws coated in disease were wild and dangerous, so he held on, shouting for the other to try and wound it with an arrow.