Chapter 1

When ye fight with a wolf of the pack ye must fight him alone and afar,
Lest others take part in the quarrel and the pack is diminished by war.

Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs as they need and ye can;
But kill not for pleasure of killing, and seven times never kill man.

- The Law for the Wolves, Rudyard Kipling

"That was very disrespectful! You act like you didn't hear me back there. He's the son of Mohan Ghale. How could you treat him like this, Amita?" Sabal asked, his green eyes shining with fury.

"Would you mind leaving us alone, Sabal? Don't expect me to drop down my duties for a tourist." Amita lowered Bhadra's arms a little bit so she could draw the arrow into the circle on the hunting board. "A little lower, like this."

"Enough with the tourist bullshit, now!" Sabal approached Amita, eying the girl beside her. "What's so difficult for you to understand? Don't you see the importance of him?" He demanded with a rather softer voice.

Amita let a sigh out and turned her body to Sabal. A couple of seconds passed with their eyes only fighting and she talked to Bhadra without breaking the eye contact with Sabal. "You keep working Bhadra and I'll be right back." Teeth gritted slightly at the end of her sentence.

Amita stepped forward passing by Sabal and he followed her right after with a questioning yet a tired look on his face. They passed through a group of Kyratis discussing the arrival of Mohan's son. Later their conversation wandered around the duality of The Golden Path, Amita and Sabal as they saw the door of the bungalow the two entered has been slammed.

"It's not a tourist what Kyrat needs of Sabal!" Amita turned back to face Sabal as he shut the door, her amber eyes widened to be understood. Sabal was going to say something back but was interrupted by Amita as he opened his mouth. "I know. I know. I know. Don't start that all over again. I've heard enough about how he's the son of Mohan for today and well, it seems I'll be hearing more in the future."

"And yet you still underestimate his statement." Sabal spoke, arms crossed on his chest he leaned his back on the wall.

"What statement? His statement doesn't seem no other than a tourist for me. An outsider visiting a country that he probably has no single clue of. And getting his unskilled ass in makes him magically special, Sabal? His bloodline?"

"He's come here for a real reason." Sabal answered with a rather lower voice.

"And that's to toss his mother's ashes in the air?" Amita imitated throwing something in the air, maybe waving a flag and turned her back to Sabal. Breathless like she's been climbing mountains she went up to the table and sat on a chair near the window.

Sabal sat on the chair at the other side of the table. "He could get to make it out here, Amita. Can't you see that? It's not by chance. To correct you on that, he knows how to use a gun. I'm not talking about a slight knowledge. Ah. You should've seen it. He fucking tore them apart with an AK!" He bumped his fist on the table and stood up. "If I were you, I wouldn't make forejudgements." Amita raised an eyebrow as she watched the excited man exit the hut.

Outside Amita found Bhadra beside Ajay, who was placing an arrow to the bow he was holding. A few Kyratis strolling around, attentions gathered around the outsider. Sabal was watching nearby, too. Amita approached Bhadra and placed a hand on her shoulder gently patting, her eyes on Ajay. He drew an arrow to the board and hit a point not very close to the center but still good for a starter.

Voices showed signs of appreciation on Ajay's hit. Amita recalling her first encounter with Ajay, her calling him 'this' and all that, changed her direction to Ajay, her face neutral. She waited until the audience walked away and scratched the back of her head.

"Look, don't mind my behaviour to you back there." She muttered so the others wouldn't hear her implicit apology, especially Sabal. She took a look over Ajay's shoulder and noticed Sabal with two rebel watching them with a constant look. "We're in the middle of a civil war, we've been losing our territories and.. well." she swung her hand in the air in a way that showed her lack of consideration about introduction manners. "But if you're planning to stay here for a long time, you should do better." Amita added with a monotone voice as if it was an order just to make sure that she didn't treat Ajay as welcoming as Sabal, who was walking back to them.

"Come here, brother." Sabal put a hand on Ajay's back "we haven't showen you a place to rest yet, have we?" He guided Ajay to the back of the house where the narrow street between the wooden houses started. The curious looks on the faces as he and Sabal passed through were saying that Kyrat hasn't achived many people from abroad. Or just this village. They were mumbling in their language which Ajay had not a single clue about what exactly they were saying, though he could guess that the subject was him from their gestures and also from Sabal's warning gaze directed to them.

"Here we are." Sabal went up the wooden stairs of a house. Ajay followed him as he went inside the small hut. "Not much of a luxuriant suit, but it will do it." He spoke to Ajay his eyes checking the room with an undecided smile on his face.

"Thank you, Sabal. For.. for everything."

"No need to thank me, brother. That's the true will of Kyra. You're saved for a reason. Just remember this, hm?" And with a pat on his shoulder, Sabal exited the hut.

Ajay was with himself and his mother Ishwari in the small room. He put the jug of her ashes on the narrow table that was placed next to the bed as a commode and sat on the bed. He leaned his elbows on his knees and examined his surroundings. There were different sizes of pots made of clay at one corner of the room. At the other corner there was a chest of drawers and right on top of that was a small TV. It didn't seem like a working one to Ajay since it had white candles melted on the top of it, making the screen look like jail. One of its drawers was put skewed in an irritating way. When Ajay looked up, he saw a few baskets hanging from the ceiling with the company of two flags of a pattern that resembled of the handmade carpets that he's seen in almost every step he took in the country so far. Yet there was a real one hung on the wall just opposite the bed he was sitting on. The only window which was really small couldn't be much of a help to let the already dim light of this hour. If Ajay paid attention he could see the transparent wrapping covering the window for the purpose of avoiding the cold, and not purposely the daylight too.

Footsteps climbed on the stairs outside. For a moment Ajay felt uneasy, out of his world. The man with the ponytail came in with a device in his hand. "I forgot to give you this. Gotta stay connected, brother." Sabal gave the phone to Ajay, his eyes wandered on the jug of ashes on the commode. For not to be rude, Sabal turned his eyes to Ajay. "Ever need of something?" he asked. Ajay answered with a croaky "No" as he shook his head. Then both of two realized the cracked voice of Ajay. The climate was too cold for him, appearently. "A cup of tea, maybe?" Sabal smiled. Without waiting for an answer, he left the cabin.

Ajay leaned backwards on the wall and tried to comprehend what was happening around him. He was back to his motherland, the place where he barely remembered from his childhood, when Ishwari told lovely stories of an imaginary country. Huge mountains, cold but fresh air, deep valleys with large lakes.Pretty much the same, he thought. But what about dictatorship, terror and struggle? A far definiton from what Ishwari told little Ajay.Children play in the streets, mothers cook together for everyone while fathers go deep into forests to bring wood for fuel the fire. These were the slight information about Kyrat that Ajay didn't know he had until now. Though it could be somewhere else, only if his mother didn't write "Kyrat" on her last note.

How could he know that his way would lead him to his birthplace again? And how could he know that what he found would be different from his mother's sweet stories? Ajay wouldn't even think to blame his mother on that. That was what any person would tell a child. A peaceful and happy story.

Ajay's thoughts were interrupted by Sabal again. This time he came with a wooden cup in his hand, vapour on top of it. "We can't have you get sick, brother. You need to take care of yourself. Kyrat is colder than Pagan's heart." spoke Sabal, hands on waist as he offered the cup to the man in cyan-ish blue jacket. Sabal noticed Ajay's jacket was still wet. "There must be something more convenient here." He spoke walking up to the chest, he pulled the bottom drawer and searched for something. Ajay was silently enjoying his tea which he smelled hints of cinnamon and apple other than the rest of the ingredients.

Sabal came up to him after, extending a pullover and a jacket to him. "These will help I guess. It's a shame we don't even have a hearth in here, but the other houses are occupied."

"It's fine, Sabal. I.." Ajay hesitated. 'I owe you' was too much to say to someone you newly knew even though he seemed pretty friendly. It was not in Ajay's literature. "I appreciate that." He spoke. What did he appreciate? Well, the sentence sounded a bit irrelevant but it was better than the first one came up to his head.

Sabal knitted his eyebrows with a hidden smile as he bowed his head to one side in a modest manner. "Take a good rest, brother. Clear your mind. You've had enough action for today."

As he was left alone, Ajay put his blade as well as his firearm aside on the commode and changed his clothes with the ones that Sabal gave to him. The dark brown pullover was pretty tight for him, however the grayish blue jacket was overly large. It had a yellow sign on the right front that seemed like an 'x'. Later Ajay realized it was the symbol that was engraved on his mother's urn, and the jacket was the same with Golden Path soldiers wore.

As he hanged his own jacket on the chair at the other side of the room he realized it was heavier than ever. Something in its pocket was the reason, a cellphone Ajay forgot that he had taking with him while escaping from the mansion he'd been captured as a 'guest'.

Amita found herself watching Sabal's every step. She watched him get in and out of the hut that Ajay was in for several times. Even once Bhadra asked Amita about when they were going to visit Kanan and her response was a sharp "Not now." Amita wanted to keep an eye on both Ajay and Sabal. Especially on the latter since she's never seen the rebel leader like this before. Also it was getting late and they could visit Kanan tomorrow.

Sabal, with the side of his eye catched Amita's gaze on himself and changed his direction up to her instead of going to the main kitchen to find something to eat. Bhadra left Amita and went on her way to the kitchen probably to help cooking or just to find something interesting to watch than their upcoming argument. Amita crossed her arms on the chest and also stepped towards Sabal.

"How's Mohan's son doing? Is he enjoying the hospitality?" Amita asked, hints of sarcasm detected in her voice. Sabal ignored that. He didn't want to fight with her at that moment.

"He needs to rest. A tough day he overcame. So did I. Please don't drag this out, Amita."

"Drag this out? So you'll wrap it up like that and go on? There are things to be talked about, Sabal. More important than his contentment." Amita pointed Ajay's hut with her hand.

"Look. I'm not in the mood to-"

"Darpan."

Just one word. One name was enough for Sabal to be pulled back in his early sorrow. His lips parted, he exhaled like his heart was about to escape from his lips. That was it. That was what Amita only wanted to see. The regret. Not that she cared about human lives. Not even Darpan's. It was just to make him upset. But the sadness on his face first turned into disappointment and then anger as Amita told him how he left one of the founders to his own fate.

"You wouldn't hesitate to take a bullet for him if it was Mohan, now would you?" Amita murmured. "Oh or his son that is."

"If it.. if there was Mohan in the place of Darpan, you wouldn't bother talking about it!" Sabal hissed, his index finger directed towards Amita's face. She made a step back with one hand on the waist. Her head tilted down like she was weighing his words. Then she did that judgemental neck movement and spinned on her heels at ease. Sabal watched the woman take the path down between the fields and get out of the sight.

"Amita." He spat her name like it was a curse. Amita was upset. Sabal knew her for a long enough time to realize her pain hidden behind the aggressive manner. Maybe she felt alone with the loss of Darpan now. Sabal has never been closer to Amita than Darpan had but still he'd be there for her if she just let him. Instead she chose to attack him every time she saw an opportunity. That was what made the Kyrati leader pull the strings back and leave Amita to her own fate.

Amita didn't have to put the blame of something that he wasn't related to. Well, you could say it was a matter of choice. You could say that Sabal didn't try his best to get Darpan back in the compound and rather focused on getting Ajay alive. It was about the time.

Earlier in the day as they reached the DePleur's mansion all one could hear was yelling of the men in red other than the gunshots. Then followed the explosions of grenades thrown. As Sabal was ready to run up to the door he didn't think twice and leaked in the building after clearing off his way with the help of his two men. Luckily inside the structure he ran right into Ajay himself, who was trying to sneak out. If Sabal and his men didn't hurry it could be too late to save Mohan's son. All he could think of was to get Ajay and himself to safety. His instincs forced Sabal to run and leave the mansion behind when the booming sounds outside had reached to the ears of the general, who's been torturing Darpan to get a word from him. Then Sabal came to the realization that he was on time for Ajay, but unfortunately late for Darpan.

Amita went down to the small hut at the cliffside. She picked up a beer from the dozen hidden behind a pile of hay at one side of the hut and opened it by skimming it onto the wall, pouring some of it down on her hand. Crouching down at the edge of the wooden floor she sat first, then remembering how strong the Kyrati beer was she dragged back and leaned her body on the wall.

Her view was a deep valley and a road perked up with random trees running into the fog and disappearing there between the depth of the high icy mountains. The sun was set already for Banapur but Amita could still spot the orange layer of sunshine flickering on the very top of the Himalayas in a distant view. First sip from the beer made her shiver even though she knew what she was expecting. Her eyes followed a haze of dust caused by a car down in the road and got back to the peak to see the last sign of sun was gone. It's always been like this. Not the set of the day she was pondering.

Sabal has always been this obtuse man as he was. Sometimes you'd doubt if he was really on his thirty-something. Some things were certain for him to decide how to react to. Things related to religion, to traditions and to exaggrated old stories about war heros. Anything else was unimportant to Sabal. Or he intentionally made it seem so.

"He didn't make it." Amita murmured Sabal's words with her jaw jutted out. "I left him behind but here's this guy and hey, Darpan got very old anyway." She threw out some random words she knew were stupid, a bad yet relevant representation of Sabal's behaviour in her opinion.

She took one more sip, for a relatively long one this time and let it burn her throat as though it would purify her mind from the memories of Darpan. Him being the supporter man of Amita and her fighters in front of Sabal and his men."Don't give up, girl. These men.. one day they will grow up and have the same state of mind with you." She smiled to herself remembering his words. Darpan was not a total supporter but whenever Amita felt down, he was there to help her get over it. A guilty feeling made its way up from the pool of beer in her stomach as Amita came to think that she didn't give Darpan much credit for what he's done for her so far. Like they always said: you start to think of the beginning of something when you come to the end of it.

Was she going to cry? No way. She was still close to the village and Amita wouldn't just let her feelings win. One knee lifted carrying her hand with the beer on top, she lifted her chin up and inhaled through her nostrils, eyes clinged up to the sky, to watch the clouds passing fast as they were late to somewhere. She noticed the vibration in her voice as she exhaled and the tears filling her golden eyes in silence.

A familiar voice picked up by her ears. The approaching sound of a decided pace sweeping the floor came more clear. Amita could swear the person was a male if she didn't hear her voice.

"Drinking without me? That's very rare of you, Amita." Tara stated, picking up a beer as Amita did and sitting beside her. Amita threw a look at Tara's front without saying a word just to let her understand that she wasn't willing to talk, hoping not to be pointed out of her weeping face.

Even though what to do was to console a friend when they're feeling down, Tara didn't. Amita didn't like to be consoled for it made her seem weak and Tara knew that just her being around was enough for Amita.

The young rebel took her cap out and put it aside. She drove a hand in her short dark hair and shook it off of the restricted feeling the long day caused. It was late for Darpan. If we didn't escape the building we all would be dead now. DePleur was already alarmed. Oh, Amita. These were what Tara wanted to say but neither her nor Amita exchanged a word, the two Kyrati sat at the edge of a cliff gazing down to the valley, to the herd of deers skipping across the road and finally up to the full moon showing up behind the rushed clouds.

Another day in Kyrat. The sunlight leaking through the wooden walls. This cold sweat on his skin contrary to the temperature of the room. The foreign words passing by his hut like maple leaves travelling in the wind, without a rush. The mold smell filling his lungs as he inhaled. The feeling in his throat, sore and thirsty as a cracked terrain. All these reminded Ajay that he was more than alive, safe.

First thing he did was to change back to his own clothes. The soldier jacket was too much to put on for him, not as the physical weight but as the meaning. He wanted to stay in his place, the man who came back for his mother's dying wish.

The note on the outer side of the door caught his attention as he stepped out of the room.

Common areas should be kept clean and tidy for the next person to stay.

-Sabal

"Where's Sabal?" Amita asked to the man trying to catch up with her fast steps through the road, Bhadra following after. The man answered her with a name of somewhere that Ajay couldn't quiet hear and wouldn't understand if did anyway. Amita didn't look like listening. She went right up to the the area where Ajay also tested his archery skills.

"Can't be found when needed." Amita hissed while she took the arrow bag on her shoulder and the bow to the other. Bhadra picked up another bag of arrows from the table and disrupted by Amita.

"What do you think you're doing, Bhadra?" Her hand stopped Bhadra's as she reached for a bow at one side of the table.

"I want to help you." Bhadra tried to take the bow out of Amita's grip.

"You staying here will help me more than coming with me." She picked up the arrow bag from the girls' shoulder.

"But, Amita." Bhadra hanged her hands on the string of the bag and insisted.

"Please." Amita cut her words off and put the bag back to the table. She took a moment to observe Bhadra's sulking face and took it in her hand. "Bhadra, priya. Wolves are more dangerous than you think. And I can't let you get in such a risk." She added with a relaxing voice.

"It's dangerous for you, too!" Bhadra moved her head to the right slowly to get rid of Amita's consolation and her ocean blue eyes brightened.

"Namaste, Ajay!" Bhadra greeted the coming man. Amita only gave a nod and her respond was the same from Ajay.

"Namaste, Bhadra. How are you?" Ajay sincerely smiled at the girl.

"I'm good." Bhadra smiled back shyly and looked back at Amita.

"Uh! Good that you have Ajay, now let me get back to my work." Amita turned around and began walking down the tiny road out of the fences, to the man who's been waiting at the car. She put the hunting equipment at the backseat and blinked slowly at Idris, as she slightly nodded her head meaning she's ready to head up.

"Amita!" Ajay stopped the woman getting into the driver seat. She looked back at him her hand on the opened door of the car, simply waiting him to say what he was going to.

"Yes?" she turned her whole body to him.

"I've heard your talk with Bhadra," His sentence was cut in the middle by her.

"If you have a habit of listening conversations you're not involved, should've better dropped it back at Patna, Ajay." Amita stated while getting in the car.

"It was none of my intention." Ajay stated, feeling anxious. Can she talk without being irritating? "I thought exploring Kyrat would be good instead of resting. Like a tourist." He stressed the last word.

Amita caught the reference but didn't stay on that. "So, what do you want?" She hanged her elbow out the window.

"I want to go hunting wolves with you. I mean I'm not a hunter or anything,but still." It sounded awful when the words came out of his mouth. Like a child begging his older sister to bring him to the park with her instead of taking care of their youngest sibling. God.Ajay seemed like having one of those days when you feel your confidence flight out of your body and everything you say makes you want to die in a hole.

"You want to help?" Amita raised her brows and her eyes appeared bigger. That made it just more unbearable for Ajay.

"Yes." He replied with a rather straight voice.

Amita took a quick look at the road and seemed like thinking for a moment that shorter than two seconds. "Grab an equipment from the table and get in." She cocked her head to the right.

Bhadra watched the car skip a few times and disappear at the corner of a bend of the road. Her shoulders fallen, she found herself walking back home then her heels stuck on the floor. What was bugging her mind stood there, three figure side by side looking at her. The redness at the center inviting her, challenging her to fight. The holes on the figure remembered her how she couldn't even hit the board at her first tries but lately she was able to shoot the circles. But not good enough, not where she exactly wanted to shoot. So the red rounds looked crimson to her now. Is this how bulls feel? She laughed through nostrils later, gearing up the archery equipment.

"What's with the wolves? Is it an ordinary hunting?" Ajay asked while the jeep bounced on the bumpy road.

"There's a farm at the bottom of that mountain," Amita pointed at the hill of huge rocks rising bigger in front of them. "Kanan's taking care of it but the wolves won't leave the caves near there. She tried several times to get rid of them completely and they kept coming back like.. like, uh.." She snapped her finger at Idris to complete her sentence.

"A mass of grasshoppers?" Ajay gave a try.

"Not the exact description I would make but you get the point." Amita half-smiled at Ajay from the mirror and sighed "Here we are." She slowly turned the wheel to the right and stopped the engine.

"Why arrows and knives only?" Ajay asked while he watched Idris placing the bag full of knives on his waist. Are these people ever known of pocketknife? Carrying ten different size of knife could be very frustrating.

"We have to make a clean kill. Charging rifle on the beasts is easy but that damages their fur." Amita explained shortly and her eyes wandered around like she was searching something. She must be passed out on her bed after god knows how many bottles of beer she drank.

"We're going to skin their pelts so that we can use them. Some people don't even have hearth in their houses and it gets colder than this, trust me." Amita added as she approached the massacre wolves left behind.

"We're going to make clothing out of the pelts for the ones in need." Idris stated, his lips pressed eachother but curled up with a trace of pride. He then untied the bandana on his head and closed his nose and mouth with it as he went closer to the dirt. Amita did the same with her yellow scarf around her neck. "We need to lure them out of their den with these first." She talked to Idris her pointing finger directed towards the pigs on the ground, lying lifeless.

Amita put down her arrow bag on a rock nearby and pulled out a small tube from her pocket. Ajay watched the Kyrati woman spill the liquid on the head of the arrows one by one, a serious look on her face. "Is that poison?" Ajay asked.

"You put some, too." Amita extended the bottle as she finished with hers. "But be carefu- ah you have gloves."

Without wasting no time, they arrived to the area, where a tiny river flowed down from the side of a steep, dividing the meadow surrounded by rocks from the other part of the plateu, where the corn fields led to Kanan's house.

The dirty business was always given to men, Amita seemed searching something on the rocks between her glances to the darkness inside the cave and to Ajay and Idris who were busy throwing the pieces of pork here and there. As silent as they could be, each knew the wolves wouldn't come out one by one or at all. Only maybe as the whole pack, but they sure wouldn't want it.

Bad that they didn't make a plan of who to act how when a wolf decided to approach, though Amita knew it wasn't going to be useful when dealing with wolves. The animals had such tactics even used in the wars by the old civilizations, especially by the Mid-Asian Turks for years.

Once they were done with the baits, each found a good place to take aim on the wolves without getting in much of trouble. The best was Amita's, on the very top of the rocks right above the entrance to cave. Idris climbed upon a tree nearby as the second and Ajay just hid behind a load of rock at the riverside which made him pretty defenseless when you thought about it.

The three was waiting in silent, at ready to attack on any movement caught in their vision. Amita one knee on the floor as the other supporting her figure, stayed almost motionless, reminding a predator, a hawk maybe. But not a single sound was coming from the den. More minutes passed the same and Amita came to think of the possibilty that the wolves could be anywhere out of their den. In that case Idris and her would be still safe but Ajay could get in danger.

"Ajay!" she called the man behind the rock audible enough and still not loudly. "Climb up somewhere." She pointed the sky with her bow. Ajay took a quick look at his surroundings and decided to climb up from the other side of the entrance. Passing by the entrance he glanced inside, a darkness as he was expecting and a large sihouette of..? Phew! Two big barrels of flammable content. What else was he expecting from a wolf den, though? Sure he was going to be having to face those predators soon. Why not a pistol at least? He thought to himself.

Good thing Ajay found a spot on the top of the rocks, a relatively smaller one than Amita's on the left. He leaned on the rocks as his feet supported his balance, half sitting half standing.

"Idris! Make a call." Amita cocked her shoulders slightly to adjust her aim. Idris clapsed the bow on his elbow and stuck the arrow behind his folded knee. He literally howled as his hands half covered his mouth and Ajay watched the Kyrati man make the call of the wild again and again until his request was answered with the same way, a howl coming from down the river.

First Idris, then Amita moved down from their safe places and Ajay quickly got down to the river. Below from river bed not too far, the wolves were easily spotted. Four greyish white wolf with one dark as night. That one pulled Amita's gaze to itself and created a smile out of her brightened eyes that none of the other two was known of.

A not very smart move, Amita stood up on her feet and drew the arrow right to the black one, pulled the string of the bow as hard as she could and sent it away. It hit the wolf not very deep though, the others gathered around the unique one as it whimpered the pain out. It didn't take so long and the three was spotted by the wolves. Ajay this time was quick on welcoming the two climbing through the river bed with the arrows shot irregularly. But hell, he was slow. One of the wolves with less damage dared to jump on him, though couldn't succeed as its feet slipped and met the water, Ajay's also slipped out of fear and found himself on the floor. He struggled to climb up on his back, his feet kicking the mud of the riverbed in rush to skip higher and it felt like forever until Ajay, by chance found a big rock barely stuck in the mud. With the whole strength and breath he had left with, he pushed the rock right onto the wolf and the wail assured it met the target.

Idris and Amita were making the arrows literally rain on the wolves. The black one, maybe also the alpha of the pack was eliminated permanently, another laying down and breathing heavily that they could hear its wheeze, and the last one to be seen by its tail creeping behind a rock at the riverside. "Two more to go." Idris shouted.

"Better start skinning them, Idris. Gone is gone." Amita stated as she assured the absence of the rest. They had to skin the wolves before the poison spreaded the whole body of the canine, and more importantly the fur.

Ajay helped Amita carry the corpse as Idris carried the black one himself to the table outisde Kanan's house. Amita brought a rope, wood attached to its one tail and tied it around the ankle of the wolf as tight as she could. Another two were tied the same way and one by one they have been hanged on the branches of an oak tree in the middle of Kanan's corn field.

"Good work we've done here. But don't forget to blow up the den so this wouldn't happen again." Amita talked to the men and walked away. "I'll look after Kanan." she added just before she disappeared at the corner wall of the house.

If there was something Ajay wanted to do, it was sure anything else than skinning wolves. The dead dark body was still warm, contrary to the cold knife he had in his hand. He watched Idris randomly stroke the corpse which seemed like an artist painting long stripes on a canvas. As quick as it seemed, the fur began being peeled from the rest of the body with ease. That encouraged Ajay and no matter how disgusting and cruel it seemed, reminding himself the barely dressed children back in Banapur, he started to do what he was supposed to do.

"Will drinking bring back your animals?" Amita asked Kanan while she wrapped a textile around the wounded ankle of the old lady, something both knew the answer. Alcohol wasn't the solution, that was for sure. But who was she to say that? Considering the fact that sometimes she herself looked to drinking, expecting it'd make things better. But Kanan didn't know of Amita's drinking habit, right? Right.

In the middle of the last skinning, Idris warned Ajay that his phone rang. Ajay was totally forgotten of the cellphone in his pocket, he left the knife stuck on the dead animal and took his one glove off. Idris put the pelt he'd washed in the fountain at the back of the house to the trunk of the car and came back to skin the last one, eyeing Ajay who was looking at his phone.

Hope you're having a good time with your little friends. Ajay read the text message came from an unknown number internally. "Who's that?" Idris asked the frozen man. Ajay turned around to say "Noone." as he put the mobile back in his pocket. "Operator message." he said with a shrug, though his face remained serious. A name wanted to escape his mouth, Ajay peeled the skin on his lower lip with his teeth as he put his glove back on his right hand. Back to the skinning, Idris was almost done. Nothing but the blood on his hands seemed like a different colour than red. More like a sick tone of fuchsia.

I hope you liked it! All these ideas and I'm taking so long to write them down. So many stuff with school this year when I actually started feeling less unconfident with my writing. GREAT!

Well, your opinions are important and always appreciated so, don't be scared to comment! :-)