Chapitre 297: Chapter 6 Hunter_3

The old hunter nodded gratefully.

Winters laughed and said to the young hunter, "Kid, come back for archery next Sunday, I'll have the prize you want ready for you next time!"

Young hunter Bell scoffed disdainfully; the lad's archery was astonishing, easily winning the prize—a half-dozen feather pens—from a group of adults. However, this youngster clearly was not fond of these trinkets.

Seeing this adolescent in his rebellious phase, Winters found it amusing. He nodded in acknowledgment and lightly spurred his horse's flank to bid farewell to the hunter father and son.

...

On the way back to Wolfton City, Winters, Gerard, and Sergei chatted idly.

"Why do they call it a wolf plague?" Winters still wondered, "Is that a Paratu dialect? What's the origin?"

"It's not Paratu; it's our dialect here. Dusa Village and the villages to the east and west of the river all call it that," Gerard replied with a smile.