Two: The Hunter’s Blood

“The trap was sprung and there’s blood in it… but no sign of the beast. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d made it out of here…. They have human minds after-all.” The mayor of the town and the farmers that had assisted in burning the werewolf out looked to the hunter’s hands; coated in the dried blood of something they assumed must be the monster. Whispering anxiously amongst one another they pondered over what they could do to find the beast… but now they had a clue.

“Well Hunter Tyrone, its obvious isn’t it that whoever is the beast was caught in the trap weren’t they? We’re looking for someone with a broken limb of a bloodied limb – maybe even someone with burns. We should scour our people and find out what is going on.” The mayor chuckled to himself in humour before turning around and yawning as he looked bark to the warm sight of the town on the other side of the charred forest. “But after breakfast my good man… I’m famished!”

“Very well Master.” Hunter Tyrone growled, standing straight and gruff as any huntsman who did not really accept being ordered about by anyone. He rubbed his thick back beard with a gloved hand and waited for the men to stroll away from his sight. Once he had realised that he was indeed alone, Tyrone pressed the bloodied fingers close to his mouth and dared to touch it. The taste was not familiar to him… he knew it was certainly not wolf or werewolf, he’d killed them before and knew their blood was strange. This was human blood! It was then that he spotted a familiar scrap of fabric hanging from a bush where it had obviously been caught. Strolling over, he pulled it off and then dropped it immediately when he realised that this was a piece of the headscarf he had given his beloved daughter. “Oh ______, what have you done?”

* * * * *

“You shouldn’t be risking your life for me ______, it’s stupid. Your father is an expert hunter; he probably knows a cure that he would use with you. After-all, you’re all that he has left in the world. He couldn’t slaughter you like he could me.” Germany grumbled as he paced through the unfamiliar woods towards the river lands. He had been very down since he had realised that you were indeed infected now and that even hunters were not immune to the illness that was as prevalent in the mountains as cholera in the dirty cities.

“There is no cure… normally you die when you’re bitten, it’s no different to rabies like that. Sadly though, it’s done something else to us both to make us werewolves and we’ve got no choice but to move on. Sorry Germany, but my father is not going to turn his back on the Hunters Code for his daughter… not when it was a werewolf that killed my mother.” You grumbled in anger, remembering only the snarls and screams when you’d been trapped in the cupboard. How the beast had not ripped its way in and torn your throat out was anyone’s guess, somehow it had left you alone and you’d managed to survive long enough to hear your father’s scream.

That thought remained heavy in your head, you felt that searing pain at the memory of your mother’s screams and without realising you’d stopped walking. Germany paused too, looking at you with anxious blue eyes and a look of uncertainty upon his face. He noted your stress, but more then anything else he noted how your body had begun to tremble. Reaching out he gripped you with his unbroken arm and gently squeezed your hand.

“Cure or no cure… we’re in this together now.” He smiled warmly and your eyes twinkled in delight. Suddenly his hand was pressed to your cheek and you found yourself nearly swooning as he gently pressed his lips to yours. “I’m not going to give you up for anything.”