Valan sheathed his blades and lifted a hand to wipe some of the blood from his face with a grimace. He'd need to wash it away soon, and he and Fedrel would have to burn the beast. It was rabid and any that ate it's flesh would become the same, madness in the mind. And other predators would smell the blood before long. This close to a Chasind village that would not be good.
He could hear Fedrel climbing back down the tree behind him, and the sound of his boots through the brush as he approached. Valan studied the young girl before him. She was a fair bit younger than his own son, and yet out here alone before the day had truly broken. He didn't know how the Wilders worked, but it seemed unwise for her to be out her so unprotected. If he and Fedrel had not arrived when they did, then the tiny girl would not have stood a chance.
He glanced down at the bucket she clutched against her chest. She stared up at him with huge eyes, her face flushed; perhaps from embarrassment, perhaps from the exertion of her magic casting. Her spoken words were not perfect, nor was her accent, but she was young and the Chasind likely had their own language, one that Valan was unfamiliar with. At her thanks he nodded easily and offered her a smile. His goal in killing the creature had not been to save her, but Valan was happy that he had been there to do so.
"The wolf was diseased. His mind was mad and so it was necessary for him to die. We'll make sure to burn the body. He's dead now, gone for good," he assured her, patting the top of her head lightly. "And your family? Are they back at the village? If they want the pelt we'll be sure to save it."
Fedrel was already moving back towards the beast's body and Valan could hear the sound of him drawing his hunting knife free. The other elf would get to work removing the pelt before gathering tinder to burn the corpse.