It was a few days later, yet the numbness in his mind still remained.

Despite the protest of the wolves, he did the only thing that could cure him of this apathy: coming to the village. He stared at the entrance and the stockade while hiding at the edge of the forest as if trying hard enough would make him able to see through walls.

He saw the village guards slacking off as usual, saw people going about with their lives through the entrance, kids playing, men and women laboring. There were wheat fields outside the stockade, and the boy scanned all the farmers to find something amiss.

Raoul’s father wasn’t there.

The boy knew best when his father was supposed to tend the crops; he even knew which fields belonged to his father, though right now, no one occupied that spot.

His mind raced.

Was today his father’s off day? No, he was certain of the date.

Was his father taking a break? No, the schedule should be fixed.

Was there something that made him unable to come? There was. The soldiers.

Over the last few days, Raoul had thought about what punishment would be awaiting him if he was captured by the soldiers, but more than that, he thought about what would happen to his parents. He didn’t know how laws and punishments worked, but from what he saw of the soldiers, he wouldn’t put it past them to do something outrageous. Coupled with his wild imagination, the anxiety that had been brewing in his guts only grew more frantic.

Raoul was considering revealing himself so that he would at least be able to meet his parents. Before he moved, however, he saw Uncle Wistin heading toward the forest near where he was. The aged farmer entered the bush, looked around while fiddling with his pants, and met eyes with Raoul, who had moved in his sight intentionally.

“Oh my Lord!” Wistin wailed, stumbling back a few steps. When he recognized who the boy was, he put a hand against his heart and heaved a gigantic sigh. “It’s you, Raoul?” Then, his eyes suddenly widened. “W-wait, you shouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean, Uncle—“

“You alright there, Wistin!” someone yelled from the fields.

The aged farmer looked between the fields and the boy a few times. Finally, he shouted back, “I’m alright! There’s a snake, is all!”

The working farmers laughed. “Just come back quick!”

“Will do, Gorg!” Wistin heaved another sigh.

“Uncle Wistin,” Raoul pressed. “What is going on? Where are my parents?”

The aged farmer evaded the boy’s eyes and scratched his head. “The thing is… Your parents are under strict surveillance right now. They can’t leave the village; those soldiers are afraid they would run away.”

The boy’s anger suddenly flared up. “So they cut off my dad’s source of income instead?”

“That’s not all… They also don’t allow your household to purchase anything other than the absolute necessities, so your mother can’t even do the baking.” Wistin looked back at Raoul for a brief second before looking away once more. “Other than that, they have been spreading rumors about your parents, that they intentionally raised you to be rabid and that they were aiming for the soldiers’ lives from the start.

“Of course, most villagers don’t believe the outsiders, but there are some small patriotic groups that… do not take the rumors lightly, so they have been harassing your parents for a while now… I’m more worried about the soldiers, though. Seeing how they are taking it this far with your parents, I don’t know what they will do to you if they manage to capture you, Raoul.”

The boy was speechless for a long moment, repeating in his head what he had just heard. And unsurprisingly, he was irate once he finished mulling over the information. “Who do they think they are?” Raoul snapped.

“They think they are the saviors of the country, and most people would agree, Raoul.” Wistin looked back at the boy, got down to one knee, and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Raoul. You should already know that the best course of action is to stay hidden. Wait until they are gone, and then we will be able to welcome you back with open arms.”

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Of course, Raoul knew best what he should do. However, accepting that he had to do what was best might be the most difficult thing the boy had yet to learn.

“I still can’t just ignore this, Uncle Wistin,” he said, almost pleading, wanting only just a single word of encouragement. “Let me help my parents somehow.”

Wistin scratched his head once more, glancing at Raoul with the corners of his eyes. “You can hunt, right? I think your parents would appreciate some meat on their plate,” he said, sighing while he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll bring what you hunt to them discreetly. You can leave the meat right around here, and I will come to pick it up around this time.”

“Really?” Raoul half-yelled, only for the farmer to slap the boy’s mouth shut.

Wistin looked over the bush to see his peers still working, and he sighed yet another time. “You are going to make my heart stop one of these days, boy,” he said. “Now that we have an agreement, I would like some down payment in the form of privacy, Raoul.”

The boy cocked his head. “What does that mean?”

“It means I need to take a leak.” The farmer shooed Raoul away, shoving him back where he came from. “Oh, I don’t think I need to say this but take care of yourself in the forest. You don’t know what kinds of beasts there are.”

For the first time in days, Raoul smiled. “Even the king of beasts won’t be able to do anything to me!”

While Raoul made his way back to the cave, he sensed a familiar presence, and a smile crept up on his face without him realizing it. He suddenly broke out into a run, jumping over tree roots, ducking under branches, and dodging stumps and trees with ease.

The presence quickly followed, approaching the boy, and it didn’t take long before the young wolf pounced from Raoul’s side and blocked his way.

The boy didn’t stop, using his two hands to push himself off the wolf’s back, flipping himself in the air one time and landing on his feet. He looked back and saw the wolf stretching his face into what was supposed to be a smile.

“Why are you here?” Raoul said as he walked into the wolf’s fluff, caressing his fur. “Didn’t I tell you that I would be fine?”

“And you expect me and Mother to believe that?” Alwig nuzzled him back. “There was at least a seventy percent chance you would do something idiotic.”

“Is that a lot?”

“That’s seven out of ten times.”

Raoul removed his face from the fur for a second to count with his fingers to seven. “That’s not that much, right?” he asked.

“How far are you from ten?” Alwig questioned back.

“Wait a second… One, two, three. Three, I think,” Raoul answered, only half-certain.

“The seven is you doing something idiotic, and the three is you actually not.”

“That’s…” the boy murmured, closing his eyes and frowning, “not a lot?”

The wolf sighed, striding away. “I’ll ask Mother to teach you more difficult arithmetics.”

“W-what? Hey!”

On the way back, Raoul rode the wolf, who casually strolled and detoured another path. They encountered many animals, but most had already fled before the two could properly see them.

Raoul suddenly thought back to when he first met Alwig. He had run away from home back then. He still remembered vividly that he threw a tantrum because his mother was taking the side of another village boy who got hurt playing with him. The boy cried when no one backed him up, and before he knew it, he had run to the forest. Even the smallest animals scared him then, and he hid under a tree while not knowing where his home was. He cried for the second time that day.

And that was when Alwig showed up, and the boy would be lying if he said that he wasn’t afraid at first. The young wolf, however, spoke human words. And though it hadn’t been long since the boy talked to someone, he was glad to have someone to converse with. After talking it out, the boy decided to go back and apologize to his mom and the village boy he had hurt. Alwig gave him a ride back to the edge of the forest, and since then, Raoul would often venture into the forest to find the young wolf.

They had been like brothers since.

“Hey Raoul,” Alwig said suddenly. “How… um… how do you feel now?”

The boy smiled as he patted his friend’s fur. “I feel fine, thanks to you and Agnes. I’m sorry for before. I must have made you two worried.”

“It’s alright,” Alwig said, his stride a bit faster. “I’m glad to see you back to normal. And… well… I think everything will work out somehow!”

“I hope so too, Al.”

The cave came into view, with no traces of Agnes anywhere to be found. Raoul looked up at the sun. She must be hunting right now.

“Do you want to go hunt something too, Al?”

“Sure!” Now the wolf’s tail waggled left and right. “Let’s do it for real this time!”

“So you admit that you were going easy on me these last few days,” Raoul said, jumping off Alwig’s back.

The wolf cringed. “Why are you so smart at times like this…”

“Maybe you were just too obvious.” The boy shrugged. “Anyways, shall we?”

“I won’t lose this time!” Alwig said before he dashed into the forest.

“That’s what you say every time!” Raoul shouted after the wolf before he went in the opposite direction his friend had gone. He picked up his bow and arrows that were resting near the end of the glade without needing to slow down.

He quickly made his way through the forest, eyes daring left and right and detecting any movement.

The boy concentrated for the first time in days, immersing himself in nature, becoming a part of it. And he felt something amiss in an instant. He could hear the sounds of leaves rustling from a big creature’s footsteps, yet he felt no presence around him. He looked around and located where he heard the sounds, but before he could react, something jumped out of a bush and pinned him to the ground. His bow and arrows flew in the air.

“Don’t move,” said the soldier pinning him. “And don’t make a sound.”