As I approached the dark mass that had forced Quent to stop, I recognized the meta bear: his long reddish-brown hair tied into a ponytail, his impressive wrestler's torso on which was displayed countless strange tattoos.
Rain, snow or wind, he didn't seem very fond of shirts, though. It was indeed him, yes. Now that his large, motionless body was two inches from my feet, there was no longer any doubt.
Cahl was kneeling beside him and from what I could tell he was looking for possible injuries that might explain the lack of reaction from the meta-bear.
"I think he escaped," he said while examining the back of the meta lying on this dusty road.
“I never felt that he was a prisoner, but I could be wrong.”
Without taking his hands off Rahen, Cahl lifted his head, an eyebrow arched in asto
