Stretched across one entire side of the cabin were his trophies. Wolf pelts that had been carefully cured and displayed. The fur colors ranged rather wide, more than nature would put in one place.
A collection of claws and teeth strung together into grotesque jewelry and other talismans hung from something like a coat rack in the corner. Jars on one shelf contained what looked like preserved organs of quite a few kinds.
Particularly disturbing when considering that there is nothing else in this collection that suggests anything remotely other than lupine kills.
And the variety suggests he wasn't limited to this locale, with fewer variations in wolf colors. Of course, it could be that they are from his early life and… gained throughout his career.
"A werewolf hunter."
I whispered my assertion and a chill ran down my spine despite myself. Even if Helene's memory didn't allow me the route to this explanation, I might have guessed the same.
After all, two of those furs look to be in… their hybrid state. They simply lay out much too differently than the others to be four-legged beasts.
> So that's what I'd look like if someone made a rug of me now in that state… <
One was a sandy red and the other as black coated as this body's own shifts.
Then there are also the three brains in jars that I want to ignore. One size is much larger than the smallest specimen, with the middle being quite close to the size of the biggest.
As much as I hate to admit it, since it sounds like I am looking down on a beast's intelligence… I do realize that such an organ is larger in 'humans'.
Such anatomical knowledge is common. It's one of the easy ways to tell in my world whether any corpse discovered was that of a shifter. Unless they were very, very advanced in manipulating the transformation.
Or so I overheard from our royal guard.
> Intellect lies in the soul as much as the body where I come from. But I guess I can't expect this place to be exactly the same. Which is probably why you exist in the first place? Some kind of spiritual bridge that beasts I know of naturally develop themselves, designed for the humans you inhabit? <
My wolf barked at me once. I'm not foolish enough to think it was a 'yes' or 'no'. Luckily I am fluent enough to call the answer 'maybe'. It really is so unhelpful sometimes!
"If I decide to name you, I will pick something very droll."
To cool off my temper, I moved away from the body… to examine the shelves that did not have pieces of werewolf decorating them. Dried and canned food, old hand tools, books on tracking and hunting.
One end even held an array of weapons for his job. From a pair of ordinary enough hunting rifles to more specialized equipment.
Arrows with what gleamed like silver-dipped tips (and probably was just that), an array of knives with strange symbols etched into the blades, and vials of liquid on a bandolier that I suspected contained the much feared wolfsbane extract.
"Is this something close to what it would feel like to walk into a torture chamber, I wonder? All these items meant to harm what I am now."
Even as I voiced the thoughts, there was a part of me that was starting to move past its discontent. The hunted part of me which remembered I was very liable to be chased by my 'own kind' in the foreseeable future.
It didn't make the tools of his trade any less the instruments of death than they were. But the silver did begin to look more valuable than its mere association to riches.
Enough that the wolf inside sensed my practical thoughts and whimpered.
I shook my head, as arrows were useless without a bow - and I do not see one around. Even if I did, all of these weapons couldn't be carried with me into the city. Not as I am.
My attention was drawn to a small wooden chest on a table in the corner. It was intricately carved with more symbols I didn't recognize. Whoever the man was in life, he clearly had some foreign connection.
He was also kind of… trusting? A set of keys sat right next to the box. There were also no traps for me to get past outside. That thought makes me wary.
It only took a few seconds to gauge which key would fit the size of the lock. I opened it cautiously, half-expecting a trap and half-praying for clean clothes. I found neither.
Inside were still likely the man's prized possessions.
A leather-bound journal filled with cramped writing and diagrams. A collection of small vials containing fur samples, each labeled with dates and locations. Some were old enough that they must be from the same creatures whose pelts were on the wall.
Then there were maps of the surrounding territory. With notations I couldn't quite decipher. Yet, they were valuable because of how I could check the visuals against that of the system interface.
And at the bottom, under all of that, a necklace.
"No, a totem."
I lifted it very carefully. Five large claws, unmistakably werewolf. They were each at least two inches long and had been meticulously drilled through. Strung together on a leather cord with small silver beads between them.
My stomach turned at the thought of these being dug from the hybrid form, even if the other beast were dead. I didn't want to sympathize with wolves, but I could still do so with the body I found myself controlling.
I clenched and opened that human fist of mine repeatedly to deal with it, but my mind was already calculating something else entirely. This…
"Could be valuable."
Not to me or shifter kind… who would find it abhorrent. To humans who collected the macabre or believed in supernatural protection? Or even to the types of scholars that may exist in this world who study our kind. Other hunters?
No, but that route is dangerous.
I don't have the backing to prevent myself from being kidnapped to become more jars and pelts if I seek those sorts out, now do I? I sat the 'jewelry' on the edge of the box then turned my attention back to the hideout.
There was too much to carry here if I wanted to consider it all spoils of the explorer. Though I think they may not have that law here. Even if a silly phrase like 'finders keepers' was in her head.
But perhaps I could mark this location and return later if needed. I brought up the system map and verified that the physical maps of his had this spot on it. Then I experimented and willed it to create a permanent marker at this spot.
A green colored circle appeared, distinct and replacing the red one that had guided me here.
> I still don't like how helpful it is. Like it is lulling me into relying on it. <
Without waiting for another unhelpful response from the creature inside me, I found a backpack that I could use to carry at least some essentials. I filled it with a few of the dried jerky packages, the totem, and a couple bottles of water.
Also a small knife.
When I get to the city, I won't be able to just change my form to protect myself as freely now, can I? Though I will if I have to. Except in the wrong circumstances, it could just make me more of a target.
I made sure it was nothing from the set that seemed plated with silver… or that had been coated with wolfsbane recently. Tested by careful smells. I didn't want to hurt myself accidentally.
Helene had seen what sort of pain the clarified substance could inflict.
A lesson taught at a gathering by the Duskpaw Alpha, using a rogue caught stealing… supposedly. Truly torture if his anguished screams were as real as they looked.
I also grab the dead man's journal and put it with the things I'm taking. It might contain useful information about the werewolf hunters' methods. There is still a lot here to come back and claim, but knowledge is the greatest helper to someone in my situation.
And clothes!
I stuffed the sort of dirty and rumpled outfit into the bag. Truly, no sense in putting them on now. It's not like I'm going to run the rest of the way as a human. I doubt the form has the speed to clear the task.
> See, I'm even beginning to want to do what it says. Using the excuse of being curious what will happen afterward. <
My wolf has not been too happy ever since I began looking at the anti-werewolf items with a lot of thought. They release a few barks inside that I interpret as urging me to get out of this awful place.
I sigh in return. I really want to do that too. Get going. But…
"I don't want it to smell so bad next time I come back."