Voices whooped and shouted from one street over. Curious, she followed them from her side of the block, peeking through the alleyways to catch glimpses of the crowd of people. After several momentary visuals, she figured out that they were carrying something--something big. Her street ended, opening up into the town square, and she stopped on the corner to watch as the crowd of people, mostly men, passed by. Her heart skipped a beat when she, at last, realized what they were carrying.
Tied to a long wooden pole was the body of a wolf...no, wait, it was still alive! She watched it squirm weakly, hanging upside down by its paws, a crude steel muzzle over its snout. Its brown, blood-crusted fur stuck out in odd places, though she could still see the shiny spots where the wounds were fresh. The creature was very large, though many wolves in these mountains were, and she noticed that several men had bandages on their arms, chests, and legs. One of them was even walking with a makeshift crutch. This wolf had not gone down without a fight.
As the group headed toward the raised concert platform--usually reserved for festivals and the like--Robin found herself following them out of some sort of morbid curiosity. She wasn’t the only one, either. Many townsfolk had stopped their business to come and see what was going on.
The men who were still able-bodied lifted the creature up onto the stage, where the others had set up staves to hold the shaft of wood, and there the animal dangled for all to see. One of the wounded warriors, a man with blonde hair and fierce brown eyes stepped in front of the gathering crowd. His arm was carried in a sling, and he had a large bandage on one side of his face, though that did little to hide his striking features.
“Stand back! We don’t need anyone else getting hurt!” His voice bellowed, but this only made the onlookers even more curious, and the crowd pressed in a little farther.
“Why is it still alive?!” A man in the crowd with a bowler hat and hateful fire in his eyes spoke up. “You don’t just traipse one of these things into a town full of people while it still breathes!”
“Calm down!” the blonde man said, moving forward, “We’ve already broken its legs. There’s nothing it can do to anyone anymore.” His voice rose, “We’ve brought it here, alive, to show you the true nature of what is out there! This creature is one of many who roam the mountains, raiding our livestock and destroying our crops! It and it’s kind are responsible for countless murders! Do you remember what happened in Pineborough?” A hushed silence fell over the onlookers. Even Robin looked down, reflecting painfully on the massacre. “An entire town, gutted by these monsters! That’s not even a day’s journey from here! And yet here you sit, in your little mountain town, pretending that there isn’t a war going on!”
“A war?” Several townsfolk muttered in disbelief.
“Yes! A war! Because these aren’t just beasts! The attacks aren’t just random! It’s an invasion! And we will prove it to you!”
The blonde man turned, and several men got out of his way as he approached the wolf. Its weary eyes slid open, gazing, yellow and defiant at him. With his good hand, he grabbed a wooden spear from his fellow hunter, holding it to the beast’s throat.
“Remove it.” He commanded, and one of his men carefully pulled the muzzle loose. It clanged loudly to the ground below, but the blonde man's gaze remained locked with the creature’s. “Speak, monster.” He demanded. Then, the strangest thing happened: the wolf smiled.
Robin wasn’t sure she believed what she was seeing, but there was no doubt about it as those white fangs appeared through the blood and mud on the wolf’s face. Then, a gasp erupted from the crowd.
“The hunter will soon be the hunted.”
It was the wolf! It was actually talking! No one dared breathe as it spoke, and a chilled silence formed the backdrop for its response.
“Mother Kamaria is not pleased...she grows restless in the sky...and soon...she will send the red wolf to claim all of you...you are strangers to these lands...outsiders...and when Viscra comes, you will all be purged!”
Sunlight glinted off of the silver tip of the spear as the blonde man raised it, and ended the wolf’s speech. Its eyes glazed over, but they remained open, filled with the hate and anger they harbored in life, glaring down at all of them.
“So the stories are true…” people in the crowd murmured.
“That is no ordinary wolf...that has to be…”
“A werewolf.” The blonde man answered before he straightened, tugging his weapon free of the creature’s neck and carrying it with him back in front of the crowd. Robin watched in horror as the fresh blood dripped from the silver tip. “A beast that can take the form of a man. They are cunning, they are clever, and they are angry. They believe that we have invaded their territory, and after years of hiding and waiting...they’re taking it back.” The crowd burst into gasps and whispers, and fear hung heavy in the once peaceful morning air.
“That is why we’ve come! We are seeking any able-bodied young men to join us and become Hunters! Together, we will face down the threat of the werewolves and any other monsters like them! We will make sure they know exactly who rules this world: Man!” He raised the bloody spear into the air, and the crowd bellowed with support. “We know their weakness, and we are turning the tide! Remember Pineborough, and join us!”
Robin’s head swam with countless thoughts, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably inside of her. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand placed itself on her lower arm, the one carrying the basket, and she nearly swung it at the person out of pure fear. But she turned, and realized that it was Papa. He gave her a small smile, but he could not mask the urgency in his voice.
“There you are, girl. Come along now, I can’t finish my business with the tailor without the contents of your bag.” He said.
“But Papa…” Robin replied, wondering how much of that scene he had witnessed. She gasped a little as her father grabbed her wrist tightly, lowering the brim of his hat and leading her out of the crowd. “Papa...Papa wait!” She struggled against his grip, but once they were clear of the townsfolk, he let her go. “Was that really a...do they really exis--”
“Yes.” Papa said, his back to her.
“It spoke, Papa! It really did! It said--”
“I know, dear. Now let’s get going.” He started to shuffle forward.
“It said Viscra! And Kamaria! Those are the names from my--” Suddenly, the old man turned, and his expression was darker and more serious than she had ever seen, which sent a bolt of ice up her spine. He spoke clearly, with a tone that made her want to shrink into a tiny ball.
“Do not speak those names in public ever again. Understand? Never mind why, just don't.” She gulped, and nodded, her eyes wide. He adjusted his hat, then started once again toward the tailor shop, Robin following a few paces behind. She took a moment to glance back at the square, and much of the crowd had dispersed. Several young men and a few older ones were on the stage, talking animatedly to the blonde man and his comrades. Her blue eyes fell on the body of the wolf behind them, and her stomach continued to squirm. She put the rest of her turnover back in the paper bag, which she had placed in her basket for safe keeping. Her appetite had left her...and all she could think about was the words of the wolf...and the words of her dream.
I guess there really are monsters out there, she thought.
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