A wolf howled in the distance. The hunter was getting closer. His rifle was ready, several silver bullets in its barrel. He ignored the exhaustion, focused only on increasing the number of his kills.
He found the wolf in a clearing, wounded and alone. Its pale eyes and bristly fur looked no different from those of an ordinary wolf, but most of the animals in these woods were far from normal. They were former humans, now under the irreversible spell of a mad witch. Having executed her, the King ordered each and every one of her spawn to be put to death.
This beast had the unmistakable aura of magic around it.
Noble titles and generous sums of gold were promised to those brave enough to participate in the Great Hunt. So, uncaring about the former identity of the wounded animal, the hunter aimed and shot the wolf that had once been his son.
Another story about magic and human cruelty.
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