Chapter Ninety-Five: The Abandoned Infant (Part Two)

In the blink of an eye, the werewolf had turned twelve. Though she did not look like a wolf—her appearance was human—her movements and gaze were far more lupine than human.

That day, as usual, she rose early. Seeing the fine weather, she left Wolf Mountain at dawn to search for berries nearby.

But this time, she was not alone; three wolf pups accompanied her.

Cradling the smallest pup, she placed it inside the hood of her coat, leaving only its head visible. Then, leading the other two pups, she bounded forward.

Agile and swift, she leapt over obstacles with ease, reveling in the thrill of vaulting over tree roots and skipping past vines.

Hopping onto a stone, she shielded her eyes from the blinding sun with one hand and glanced down at the bustling city of Lanshou below, her eyes filled with longing and envy.

That lively street had always been a place she yearned to visit but dared not approach. Whenever her wolf mother was away, she would sneak down alone to stand by the stone statue and watch.

But she feared the crowds, afraid to come into contact with humans.

Just watching was enough.

Since she was four, she had lived among the wolf pack, bonding with them as family.

When the wolf mother rescued her, she never treated her differently or with disdain for being human. Instead, she lavished more love on her than on the wolf pups.

Her wolf father—the pack leader who had howled at the black bear and charged to save her—was equally doting. She was the first to dare to tug on his whiskers!

And the first to mischievously draw dark circles around his eyes with charcoal from the firewood while he pretended to sleep.

In truth, the wolf father never slept but closed his eyes to humor her, letting her play and cause a ruckus.

When she gleefully ran off, hiding behind a rock to giggle at her prank, he opened one eye and watched her retreating figure with tender affection.

Unbeknownst to her, that was silent love.

Among the pack, the older wolves treated her like their own child, always sharing extra food out of concern she might not have enough.

With the werewolf among them, each day was joyful and filled with laughter. Her presence brought light to the pack.

After one last look at the lively market from atop the rock, she turned and leapt down to continue her berry hunt.

Her day’s harvest was abundant. Cradling a large pile of berries in her coat, she had already decided to gift the biggest one to her wolf mother.

Smiling, she ran toward home. Near the mountain’s base, she suddenly heard the sound of hooves. Quickly seeking a hiding place, she peeked out cautiously.

She saw five or six people, bows and arrows slung on their backs, riding swiftly toward Wolf Mountain. A dreadful feeling settled in her heart.

Dropping the berries, she took a shortcut with the pups, running swiftly from another direction, silently praying no harm would come.

But the hooves beat faster than her legs. Upon reaching Wolf Mountain, she found a white wolf’s body—pierced through the abdomen by an arrow, blood trickling from its mouth, twitching on the ground.

She ran to it, cradling the white wolf in her arms, sorrowfully stroking its head. The wolf opened weary eyes, glanced at her one last time, then ceased to move.

“Ahhhhh!!!”

The werewolf screamed, clenching her fists and pounding the earth. Her eyes, bloodshot with rage, glowed a fierce crimson.

She hated those humans with a deep, burning hatred. She could not understand why they disturbed the peace here, why they would kill such kind, innocent wolves.

She hid the three pups in a small hole in the ground, covering the entrance with her coat and a layer of leaves to conceal it completely. Only then did she sprint off to find her wolf mother.

Near a familiar watering spot, she saw a man drawing his bow, aiming at a white wolf drinking water. Without hesitation, she leapt at him fiercely.

“Werewolf! It’s a werewolf! Someone help…”

The man’s arrow missed the wolf as she tackled him. Two white wolves sprang out, biting his arms and wrenching them off with brutal force.

The werewolf continued running back, worry gnawing at her for her expecting wolf mother, who would find escape difficult if confronted by these men.

The white wolf the man had tried to shoot lunged, biting his neck. The man thrashed his legs desperately, then went still.

As she ran, she saw more and more white wolf corpses along the way, her heart shattering. Her feelings for humanity vanished completely, replaced by bitter hatred.

Howl!!!

Suddenly, she heard a cry—a warning from her wolf mother, urging her to flee and lead the others away.

But she did not heed it; she could never abandon her mother. She ran swiftly in the direction of the call and saw her mother caught in a net, suspended in midair.

Two men hid in the shadows—they had come to capture the werewolf and had used her mother as bait to lure her out.

As the werewolf approached, one man stepped from behind a tree, bow drawn, aiming at her shoulder.

She was cutting the net with a small bone knife, almost free, when an arrow suddenly struck the blade.

Her mother cried out in pain. The werewolf ripped out the arrow and glared fiercely at the man.

Wail!!!

Just as the man raised his bow to shoot again, a chorus of howls rang out, startling him. He lowered his bow, nervously scanning the surroundings.

Then, a massive white wolf emerged from the grass, followed by countless others encircling the men from all sides.

It was her wolf father, having summoned the entire pack to rescue her.

The white wolves did not attack immediately but circled the men, baring their teeth in warning.

They did not wish to be enemies of humans and hoped humans would refrain from causing harm.

Faced with the overwhelming number of wolves surrounding him, the man instantly cowered, trembling in fear. He dropped his bow and abandoned his horse, fleeing in terror.

“Retreat!”

“Quick, retreat!!!”

As he ran, he called to his two companions to follow. They fled down the mountain. Seven had come; four were lost in this encounter.

Afterward, the werewolf tended to the injured white wolf, using herbs taught by the female hunter to staunch bleeding and reduce inflammation. She chewed the herbs and applied them to the wounds.

She buried the unfortunate fallen wolves together, marking their grave with stones. Kneeling in grief, she lingered long, unwilling to leave.

Later still, she encountered an elderly woman intent on ending her own life. Leading her pack, the werewolf saved her.

The woman’s love melted the coldness in her heart, allowing warmth to return.

It was this woman, more than the female hunter, who showed her that not all humans were cruel—that there were good people as well as bad.

From the woman, the werewolf learned a new word: “Love.”