This was an outrage, a downright travesty, and offense on all levels--that someone had staked a bet on beating up Fiadh to prove their toughness and not him? Waen could hardly stand the thought.

Now, fair enough, he had given up fighting after his last dalliance with the girl from down the way. And he hadn't actually fought anyone in town since well before Fiadh had taken over the smithy. And there is no way those soldiers could have heard tell that he was the tough fellow in town.

But that didn't make any of it sit better with him.

He'd been stewing all day, cooped up with the dogs, and the dogs were just as annoyed and snappish as he was. By the gods' he'd have to close up shop for the duration of the weather if he didn't sort this out.

And so, without much more deliberation, Waen put on his heavy coat and strode out into the cold toward the smithy. When he arrived it was with little fanfare, just three sharp knocks on the door and a quiet huff of frustration.