odlands and dense forests. Isolated from the rest of the world, this hamlet seemed
n the buildings like streams of stone. The village was bathed in an atmosphere of tranquilit
calloused hands. He had grown up in Bois-Sombre and knew every corner of the surro
or did not believe in the werewolf stories that fueled conversations during the long winter night
y morning, Victor got up before dawn to go into the forest. He spent hours there, observing the animal movements, tracking game and cutting wood.
a sacred ritual for Victor, a way to relax and maintain ties with your community.However, each evening, inevitably, the conversations drifted towards the legends of the village. The werewolf stories kept coming back, told in detail always more frightening and
with amusement. For him, there was no no tangible pr
inary wolves. There was no no reason to believe in a human transf
moon approached, discus
ces were serious and the
an from the neighboring village, who disappeared during the last full moon. She described with frightening pr
o scare us," he declared confidently. "There is no no werewolf. This young man was probab
s were those of a man blind to reality. "You're too confident, Victor,
ou expla
ders. "Wolves howl, that'
ey
dangers, why invent monsters? »But this time, th
taring at Victor. "You don't have never seen the beast, Vi
s not going to convince his companions that evening. He finished his beer in silence
ut
at this is all
est with a silvery glow, creating eerie shadows. But Victor did not let himself be intimidat
lf with his rifle, provisions and his hunting knife, then plunged into the forest. He intended to
carefully, examining every lead and clue. He knew these woods by heart, but this t
d and ordinary beauty. However, As the sun set, Victor felt a strange sensation, as if something was watching him
cks. He lit a fire to warm himself and chased from his mind the legends that conti
traightened up, all his senses on alert. This howl was different, deeper, more powerful. His heart accelerated de
ilence fell again, oppressive
He squeezed his rifle, ready for any eventuality. A massive silhouette loomed
emed match the villagers' descriptions. But he couldn't let himself overw
. It was a man, tall and muscular, but his features were distorted by pain intense. His
w meters from Victor,
p me
before losing
rom man. Turning it over, he saw the claw and bite marks. on his body, wounds inflicted by a w
erstood that the legends
d to understand what was happening actually in Da
uth and redemption that would change his life