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I'd spent weeks skulking the paddocks in twilight, spooking shepherds, milk maids and the occasional merchant. Soon every missing ewe or calf was blamed on The Great Beast, or the Walking-Wolf, or She-of-Fangs.

I'd carefully selected a town without Hunters. Soon my partner would swagger into town, accept some coin and she'd defeat me in messy, howling battle.

I was starting to suspect I wasn't the only beast stalking these lands though...

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