Werewolf hunting rules

"You know why I chose to come today, right?" Clayton asked word for word.

He just didn't want to take action, so he chose to escape from three days ago to today. If he still wanted to kill Marshall today, then there was no need for him to wait three days.

"Okay, let's see if you're in a hurry. Anyway, I'm not in a hurry." Wolf Walker lay down, his eyes staying in the mud under the embankment, the bottomless darkness reflected in his pupils, and his body was still shaking slightly. , the cold and other evil things eroded its body.

Clayton saw the look in its eyes and felt unbearable.

"Or I could lend you the gun."

Marshall pulled a paw out from under his body, looked at the short toenails toward the sun, and then turned to look at Clayton.

"Are you serious? Do you think my hands can shoot?"

Clayton coughed awkwardly to hide his expression.

"Then let's wait."

"Then just wait, it won't last longer than tonight at most." Black Wolf's lips trembled in pain, revealing the two rows of teeth at the back. He sighed imperceptibly: "I thought someone like you would Determined enough to kill me."

"I'm determined, but there's no need to torture myself."

Clayton's battlefield syndrome has stopped for two years, but he has recently experienced a relapse. For the sake of his mental condition, he does not want to violate his original ideas.

The black wolf moved its long snout up and down: "Of course, of course, the aura of death on your body is thicker than before. Maybe doing nothing can give you a breather, so I won't force you."

Clayton sighed and sat down next to it.

Although they had not met for a long time, he felt that Marshall was like a familiar friend.

This feeling is not surprising. He knows many people, including people with similar personalities to Marshall, but none of them are as open-minded as him. Of course, this did not prevent him from mocking this strange statement: "Don't be so nagging, you look like a wizard."

"Maybe I am?" Wolf Walker asked.

"Then why were you knocked down so easily by the Spider Priest? Wizards will also be wary of similar people, right?"

The wolf breathed for a while before replying: "Then your impression of us is completely wrong. Even wizards have different types. Unless they are old guys who have lived for hundreds of years, most of them are People can still only specialize in one aspect. To be honest, when you master that mysterious perspective and observe the world through it, the first thought in your mind is never to use magic to kill something, but to lament the nature. beauty of."

"So, you are really a wizard?"

Black Wolf narrowed his eyes: "I belong to a sect of wizards called Benandanti. We study harvest magic and various ways of out-of-body experiences, but unfortunately, most of our results cannot be used for... Fighting. Because our magic power is not strong enough, we rely more on rituals and magic circles that require long-term preparation. Just before I fell into the current situation, I was still thinking about how to use magic to promote wetland mushrooms so that I could survive Spend this winter.”

"It sounds like you are no different from ordinary people most of the time." Clayton commented.

"Hmm - that's still not quite accurate. We all think that we are ordinary people. Even if our bodies have changed, the life we ​​love is still the same as before."

Marshall said this, but the werewolf didn't think it was an ordinary person.

"Ordinary people are very afraid of death. If I were you, even if I knew that I was not going to die soon, I would definitely try my best to survive, even if I could only lie in bed for the rest of my life, or live in a sewer with rats as neighbors. .”

"Death is also a part of nature, and I don't want to make my struggle look too ugly."

When he spoke, every rise and fall of the black wolf's chest and abdomen caused a putrid smell to emit from his mouth, which was the breath of approaching death.

The situation was so serious that even if Clayton couldn't feel its pain, he knew that it was really hopeless at this moment. Neither bloodletting nor chemicals could save such symptoms.

He picked up a stone and threw it into the river, but there was no splash. It was like throwing a moldy raisin on a moldy cake.

"My friend died recently. I originally thought that people should always be resentful of the world when they die, but his suicide note was very optimistic and made me feel the same as you." At this point, Clay He turned his head to look at it.

"This is a good thing." Wolf Walker said seriously, looking at the river: "Everyone is going to die. We don't have the right to refuse death, but at least we can face it calmly."

"It's difficult."

"As long as you don't think you're special, you'll get used to it pretty quickly."

Clayton was stunned.

"You haven't lived a hard life, and you happen to have read a lot of books, right?" Black Wolf laughed a few times in a low voice, even with a bit of joy in his voice: "We are the same as beasts, and there is no such thing as advanced wisdom. What kind of divinity exists? There is no difference between the will to survive and the death struggle of cattle and sheep waiting to be slaughtered. I know that everything about myself is a part of nature. The body after death will provide nutrients for insects and plants, and then be reborn from the birth of new life. Be free, so death is not worth fearing.”

Clayton thought for a while and pointed out the contradiction in his logic: "But you still want to take revenge on the witch. You have not reached the level of abandoning the concept of death."

The Wolf Walker was not embarrassed at all. He grinned and flicked his tail: "After all, I have lived in this world. No one can completely resist his own instinct. And it seems that I am right, you really don't I’m too used to hard times, otherwise I wouldn’t be like this. Pretentious.”

This accusation made the werewolf very unconvinced: "You don't know my past. My life in the colony is unimaginable to you. Many people died in front of me, and I personally sent away at least seventy people. In the most difficult time, I was trapped in an oasis listening to cannon fire for two nights."

"That's different, friend, that's different." The black wolf's voice became softer and softer. After saying so many words, it began to feel tired.

"Remember what I said, otherwise you won't feel happy even if you kill the witch. That's not revenge."

Clayton wiped his forehead, straightened his back angrily, and raised his ears.

"Please say."

"Don't think too much. You are not killing because of the dead. The dead will not have any demands on this world. Everything you do is for yourself. Remember this and you will not regret it."

Clayton lowered his head. He needed some time to think about Marshall's advice, but the latter couldn't wait any longer.

"If you can understand me, then kill me quickly, I'm dying of pain."

Marshall suddenly began to pant violently. Even from the side, it could be seen that his body was shaking more violently than before, and the muscles in his limbs began to relax. When it turned its head, Clayton saw that its pupils were gradually dilating, and foam was gathering at the corners of its mouth. It was no longer the divine horse it had been the first time it met a few days ago.

The strange thing is that after seeing this scene, Clayton's resistance to doing this disappeared.

He could kill it again.

It's not killing, it's saving, he takes it out of its misery.

He said this to himself.

Clayton took out his revolver for one last check. Wolfwalker saw his actions and relaxed even more.

"Okay, do you have any last words? Or any inheritance that needs to be distributed? I can help you bring the words."

"No need."

Clayton raised his pistol.

Marshall gasped and shouted again when he saw him pointing the gun at him.

"Wait a minute!"

Clayton lowered his gun: "Have you remembered anything to say?"

Black Wolf showed his last smile.

"It's nothing. I just want to remind you that you'd better aim at my eyes when you shoot. Don't let the bullet make holes in my beautiful fur. That is a serious waste."

"I see."

Clayton moved the muzzle of the gun toward its no longer clear eyes, and put his finger on the trigger.

“If our Heavenly Father loved people, He would not cause us to suffer in this world.”

The black wolf finally uttered a complaint. His eyes looked eagerly at the lake, as if the mud there had been washed away and returned to the docile water silk he had seen when he was baptized as a child.

"But this ghost place is really nice after looking at it for a long time, don't you think?"

Clayton pressed his index finger.