Gearrag, the young hare, heard him, and she peeped at him from behind a tuft of grass; but she was not afraid of a wolf that hunted alone, and she ran off to feed.
And Mulcha the owl heard him; she perched in the fir tree overhead and cried out: “Whoo-whoo-whoo! Who heeds a wolf that runs by himself? Whoo-whoo-oo!”
And Broc the badger heard him. He came up out of his burrow at the roots of a big oak tree to go on his midnight prowl; he went on his way, grunting to himself: “I always go out without a mate, for that is the way of us badger-folk, but it is not the way for him; it is not the way of his folk. No, no!”
By and by the wolf went on again; and he hunted all the night and found no trail. But towards morning he smelt the scent of dead game. And he nosed about and presently he found in a thicket the body of a hind that had been caught in a trap by its foot. A man had set the trap, but he was at home lame with frost-bite in his feet, and he could not go to his trap. The hind was dead, and Bran the raven had found it; Bran was sitting aloft on a bare branch, calling out “Kroagh, kroagh, kroagh!”
When the wolf found the dead hind in the trap, he was very glad. He said to himself: “Now I will have a feast all to myself. It is a good thing to hunt alone!”
But Arthas the she-bear was near. She too had smelled out the dead hind, and she meant to make a meal of it. She saw the wolf, but she was not afraid of a wolf that hunted alone. So she came up very quietly behind him and said:
“Humpff!”
The wolf jumped, for he was very frightened. But he snarled and showed his teeth. Then he said:
“Go away! This is mine.”
But Arthas said, “Nay, friend, it is mine!”