Wolfbane
My throat itched and my vision blurred a bit by the abrupt development.
We neared his location, about a mile out from the border, to find him lying lifeless on the ground, his skin clammy, with blood trickling out his mouth and nose. Three darts stuck out of his shoulder, arm, and leg. I checked his breathing, and the distinct scent of decay setting in drifted into my nose, alerting me that we were too late. I ripped one of the darts out with my mouth and smelled it. Wolfsbane.
Bab Populer