The Black Wolf
I found Zevarion, back pressed against an old tree.
He looked up and smiled faintly when he saw me. That smile, the only warmth I trusted anymore. I handed him the food and sat beside him, the silence between us as comfortable as the shadows.
“These people are beyond saving,” I muttered. “You saw what they did when given food, they turned into animals.”
Zevarion unwrapped the meat slowly, chewing as he listened.
“That’s what happens when people are starved for too long,” he said softly. “It’s instinct, survival. When you take everything from someone, all that’s left is the will to fight for scraps. And that’s exactly what Xareth wants.”
Bab Populer