During the next day, you try to track down the werewolf.

The hunter's sleep is restless and "poisoned" by disturbing, foggy images...

While you sleep, strange things flash in your head between periods of relative calm...

It's as if you see the vast expanses of this mountainous terrain from a bird's eye view...

Snow and mountains...

The howl of the wolves is like an evil, sadistic mockery of your efforts.

Darkness...

Then you see the coniferous trees again, their branches covered in snow.

But now you yourself are standing knee-deep in snow. The trees are nearby.

And the wolf's howl is getting louder...

This terrible sound comes from everywhere.

You turn around again and again, looking in all possible directions.

You can't see anything.

But the howl is becoming more and more like a cruel, mocking laugh.

Your eyes darken again, but you manage to feel that the close attention directed at you was so noticeable and… “unpleasant” that it can be described with the phrase “every tree in this forest is watching me.”

Finally, your sleep becomes more stable.

In the morning, you wake up with a headache.

“Fucking nightmares…” - you hold your temples and then rub your eyes.

You quickly get dressed and go to the common room of the inn to have a quick breakfast.

Yesterday’s events quickly remind you of themselves - a bunch of disturbing thoughts haunt you while you chew a piece of tasteless rye bread.

Your gaze watches the servants who bring you food.

Gloomy thoughts push you to some conclusions about the situation: "Perhaps I was too slow and sluggish... I lost a couple of days and achieved nothing except the destruction of ordinary wolves... Only yesterday I encountered a werewolf... Probably, delay is extremely risky - I have a very bad feeling..."

You notice the silhouette of a young beautiful inn-maid, with long red hair and charming green eyes.

She brings you food and drinks.

Her graceful silhouette, cute face, graceful thin waist, large buttocks, which are visible under the fabric of a simple cloth peasant dress...

All this provokes the fact that the blood is now starting to flow not to your "upper" head, but to the head of your dick.

You look away, slightly blushing with shame.

"Damn! I have enough problems as it is! The situation is rapidly deteriorating with each passing day… I can’t be distracted by all sorts of extraneous things…” you think.

To distract yourself, you look at the squat and muscular human who is standing near the bar counter (in the place where Durlen Gruy used to stand).

This guy has replaced the former innkeeper.

After eating, you approach him and ask him about the events in the village that took place last night and early in the morning.

To your relief, there have been no new victims of the werewolf so far.

But you have heard one interesting rumor…

In the wooded area north of the village there is a strange large stone with a bas-relief. There was one of beast attack in this place quite a while ago. Previously, the inhabitants thought that these were wolf attacks – but now it is clear that it was an attack of the werewolf.

Early this morning, a couple of villagers heard strange sounds coming from this area...

Something between a wolf's howl and the scream of a man in agony...

You think: "It makes sense to start tracking a werewolf in a forested area. It's quite possible that the beast has made its lair in this area, where it drags its prey. I seriously wounded the monster with a silver dagger... The monster must have fled to its lair... I must hurry and finish off this vile werewolf before it makes another attack!"

You leave the inn after the local inhabitants explained to you the shortest way to get to the landmark you need.

You are confident that the beast will not be able to escape its inevitable ****.

After all, now you know its weak spot.

Silver...

In addition, you have a lot of experience in hunting (and not only ordinary wolves - after all, you fought with cave goblins and even a troll). You are well prepared and equipped: you checked your armor and weapons in advance. Touching your silver dagger seems to instill a little confidence in your mind.

However, some unpleasant premonition still glimmers on the periphery of your consciousness...

You yourself cannot understand the reason for this, but it seems to you that you have missed something important...

Trying to concentrate on the goal, you quickly walk between the peasants' houses.

It is morning now, the sun's rays abundantly illuminate the ground, which is covered with a layer of snow. The air is cold and the snow does not melt. This is not surprising, because in this highland region it has always been much cooler than on the plain. You wrap yourself in your long fur coat. Fortunately, your fur clothing is suitable for traveling in such a cold time of year.

However, you still feel the cold, a frosty breeze blows unpleasantly on your nose.

You walk through the village and you see some of the local inhabitants.

Most of them are busy now and hurrying about their usual routine. Life in the village always requires regular and hard work. And now your gaze notices peasants who are carrying logs (probably for the repair of some building), peasant women who are carrying bundles of twigs and branches from the forest (obviously this is fuel for the stoves that heat the huts). You also see peasant children who are carrying containers with food for domestic animals.

Soon the terrain changes slightly. You see more and more trees on your way. This is a wooded area with a predominance of coniferous pine forest.

You are moving to the area north of the village. You are walking along a small path that goes between trees and snowdrifts.

Three hours later, you reach the landmark you need.

Among the large pines and firs, whose branches are covered with snow, you see a large stone. The size of this stone is not much smaller than the size of an average-sized human.

You come closer and take a closer look.

There are signs that the monster has been here. You notice both old tracks (which are almost hidden by the snow) and new deep tracks.

Tracks that are larger than wolf or human tracks.

And also blood stains on the bark of one of the trees and on the stone itself...

The Werewolf was here recently.

"Fucking Durlen Gruy! How could he deceive the entire village for so long?! We need to finish him off as soon as possible..." - you think.

You look closely at the stone and notice that there are some signs depicted on the stone. It's not clear what this is.

Patterns? Written signs? A failed drawing? Or maybe these are just random damages to the stone that only seem to have some meaning?

While you are looking at these symbols on the stone, something strange is happening on the periphery of your vision.

As if a lightning-fast movement of a vague silhouette...