The sound in the grass was getting closer and closer...
The sound was very soft, softer than the dying heartbeat of a person, more gentle than a mother touching her sleeping child's cheek, yet our barbarian adventurer could still detect it with his sharp senses.
Aside from Bartlett, no one else in the campfire could possibly hear this sound, but it did not prevent them from noticing his unusual behavior.
"Hey, big guy, what's happened? Why did you suddenly draw your sword?" The coachman stood up, gripping his wooden stick tighter. He whispered to Bartlett, "Did you find something strange?"
With his words, the tension rose around the campfire, except for the sleeping old man.
"Oh my god, what is it? Is it a wolf? How many wolves? It's not an entire wolf pack, is it? A wolf pack! What should we do? Hurry up, coachman, let's get out of here!" The fat man hid behind the coachman, trembling uncontrollably.
