Le pacte des loups - Les entrailles de la bête Page #3

Pardon me for the deception.

So you say the Beast does not truly exist,

save in our imaginations?

...are we then imbeciles?

I am merely saying Madame...

...people have never seen dragons

or a unicorns, simply in fairy tales.

Lies sometimes become truth

when told with a silver tongue.

Careful, Knight.

We do not know of such talk...

By the way, are you

a naturalist or philosopher?

Or worse... a comedian?

I think our Knight is for certain, a Parisian.

Enough talk about beasts and furry fish.

Perhaps charades?

I would like to perform a love poem.

If the Countess has no objections...

If it's not immoral.

- Immoral? No, no.

It's very chaste and pure.

Nothing elaborate and far fetched.

It just came to me in fact.

I call it "The Wolf"... The Wolf.

"I let down my guard, just a little.

Not knowing of evil, My eyes fall upon you.

Yours upon me, they strike my heart.

The wolf, the wolf, the wolf"

Will I see you again soon?

Do you have other mystical creatures to show me?

- You have already rushed to a conclusion about me.

Allow me to change your mind.

- You can try.

Will you be attending Duhamel's great hunt?

- Certainly.

I forbid you.

It's far too dangerous.

Obedience is the first virtue

of young women.

This young man speaks the truth.

It was on that day, in Gevaudan,

the biggest hunt to ever take place in France.

The King promised six thousand pounds,

to any man that could capture the Beast.

Thousands of peasants, soldiers and hunters,

spanning from across the entire region, made an appearance.

Within a few hours, we had forgotten

our primary reason for coming...

...to capture the fabled Beast that hunted us.

You have all been given a map.

We assemble at 07:00 tomorrow.

Now, please you are dismissed.

My people have other things to concern themselves with.

Your generosity is only matched

by your courage Sir Duke...

Enough. I hope for your sake we catch it this time.

That's a certainty, Sir Duke.

What's going on down there, what is the commotion?

A beautiful weapon, no?

Specially made by a famous

blacksmith in Mende.

Custom made and one of a kind.

Look...

...even in Paris you can't find

such bullets. I mold them myself.

Silver? You fear werewolves?

No, but I do like a well made fire arm.

I'm a hunter Fronsac.

Its a passion that is not without its price.

What happened?

I've learnt that some predators

need more then a silver bullet...

...and that gangrene cannot be cured by prayer.

A wolf that wounded you?

- A lion.

Yes, two years in the Royal Marines,

you tend to travel quite frequently.

You don't know Africa, Fronsac.

Gentlemen... my daughter is to blame for the fight.

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