Two hours later, he found his village, he knew he had only five kilometers to be back home, he was eager to apologize to his mother for having gone missing. He had difficulties approaching the village, its pungent smell corroded his mind each time he gagged. The houses' walls and every roadside entrances had green luminescence. The human smell was everywhere except on Oswald and some stray dogs.
He avoided the heart of the village to not faint again. It wasn't time to draw people's attention. He waved back at the inn's lady and continued his way back home.
In the forest, he heard distant voices which he identified as the three hunters. 'They might've come for me, I hope mother has given them a plausible excuse for my absence.' He thought while hiding on an oak.
He found her in the living room, he did not bother knocking on his front door since she had to be expecting his arrival with much impatience.
"I'm back." He said while inspecting the odd door. Its handle felt different.
Only when Meryl ran to hug him did he notice the five centimetres he gained during the night. Indeed, his face was closer to the ceiling, giving off an oppressive feeling.
At the very least, his head was fine. There was no headache nor sharp pain, he was relieved to see how fine she was despite the fact there was a gaping hole in his memory.
She was close, too close for him to not notice the missing round belly. Before he could utter a word, she put her fingers on his lips.
"She's fine. The baby is fine. You have a little sister. But there's a big problem and it's not coming from us, it's from you. Come, take a sit."
"She! I have a little sister?" Asked Oswald. He was the happiest big brother, he lost his last sister years ago and his heart was already wounded by his loss.
'There are plenty of problems in this family.' Both thought.
'He doesn't look afraid at all. He can't remember what happened... He's... Clueless. Good. If I can deceive Ozzy, then I can lie to everyone.' Meryl's sorrow was nowhere to be seen, she even had a slight smile.
"She's upstairs in my room, and she was born last night, prematurely. It means she's fragile. You are not allowed to see her under any circumstances. I've seen your true face before you ran away from the house."
"Your room? My true face?"
"That's right, you are to sleep on the couch for as long as it takes to stabilise your little sister's health. As for your face, I saw a gigantic wolf-like monster endangering both my life and hers. You can't stay by our side if you can't control yourself. You can't ask me what happened every time sun goes down. I had to feed the herd despite my poor state. We need to find a solution to our problems."
Oswald needed time to process the informations. He saw his bloody pillow on the couch and asked his mother if she needed a doctor, but she refused, accusing him of being too abnormal for the family to be examined.
Deep inside, he knew she was lying. She smelled wonderful, like the best piece of meat any animal could have to offer. And her aura was golden-coloured. She was abnormal too. Her deflated belly had no traces of the childbirth and her ability to walk was normal.
Still, she outcasted him with a few words by giving unclear proofs and very little details. The bit of warmth he had from her motherly attitude faded with their trust bond, but he accepted it, as a punishment for his absence when she needed him the most.
'I'll let you lie once more.' He thought, disgusted of her mistrust. Upstairs, a dark aura emanated from the bedroom. Death's smell stained every breath Oswald took in the house. He was eager to recover his memory.
She said nothing about his look, nor his size, making him think she cared less than what she'd let it appear.
Alas he was dead tired and accepted his fate in the couch. His mother went upstairs multiple times, making up excuses such as. "I can hear her crying, I'll be back." She had no idea how sensitive Oswald's ears were. 'If I can't even have my sister's name, you won't have anything from me in return, mother.'
Next day, the herd became pretty agitated when he entered the barn, their bells added noise to the ruckus and their hooves hammered the planks.
"Silence!" Oswald roared. His voice was hoarse, his silhouette prevented most sunlight to enter and his two glowing eyes made them excessively docile, especially when he had to milk them.
He made sure to clean and pack the clothes he had to give back. The house where he had to deliver them was three hours farther to the top of the mountain, three hours walking. His high-paced run could save around two hours and thirty five minutes.
He felt energetic. He had no difficulty to run around the trees and jump over the entangled oak roots, he held the cloak he was supposed to wear in his hand while he had his baggage on his back.
His race ended fifty meters away from Ruth's house. He supposed she was alone once more, alas, his two parents were artisans, their shop had one day off and Oswald saw the house's inhabitants in time.
Thanks to his nose, he knew the girl was staying in her room, it was the window next to the noisy watermill.
Chink chink chink. The wood hit the stream and inside the house, the metallic arc around the log scraped its socle.
His nails tapped on the glass of her window. It was early in the morning.
"Hey beautiful. How are you?" He bowed.
She was glad to see Oswald again. He seemed in a better shape and the frown on his face had vanished.
Thick white mist escaped his mouth and tinted the glass.
Both were impatient to hear each other's story.
Ruth was the first to tell hers. "It all begun when our Great Lord created the world." She said, but she was quickly interrupted by Oswald. "Who is the lord?" He asked, not sure of the term she was using.
"The one that can do everything he wants." She giggled, adding more details to lessen his confusion.
"How many are there?"
"Just one."