It was dusk. Éiadric stood in the cold rain beside his father, glad for the raindrops concealing his tears. They were looking down from a hilltop out onto his uncle’s grazing pastures. He was a mere boy, maybe ten years old. His uncle and the rest of the family were in the main house behind them washing the body of his dead cousin. Finally his father broke the long silence with his stern deep voice “You should not have gone out after the wolf by yourselves. It was foolish. And now your cousin is dead.” Éiadric said nothing.
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