. . .

The wolf is in him and within him. It is wound through him. It is with him, he who has stolen Hans’ gold.

Vaenwode staggers to the basin and he tries to throw it up. He chews savage herbs and makes his stomach heave but something suppresses it, he digests them, and when he looks up at the mirror he sees the wolf behind him in the glass.

He spins.

He is staring at shadows. He is gasping great awful breaths.

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