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“All is lost!” cried Saurreg.
Meanwhile, Eomer turned to Estel. “It’s time for you to go, old chap. Thank you for your help.”
“You mean I don’t even get to see him die first?” asked Estel in disappointment, indicating Saurreg.
Eomer thought for a moment. “Just for you,” he decided, “I’ll let you witness Saurreg’s death. Then you may die in what manner seems best to you.”
Estel smiled mirthlessly at this pronouncement. “Make it painful.”
With a victorious light in his eye, Eomer looked upon Saurreg. “Rest assured, once I kill you, I’ll do the same to every one of your sheep.”
Saurreg’s face paled. “Not me poor sheep!” And that was all the last words that Saurreg had time for before Eomer underwent a snarling transformation. Saurreg put up a futile fight, but Eomer easily overcame him. Within minutes, all that was left of Saurreg was scattered, bloody, shredded body parts.
And Eomer smiled a wolfish smile. Victory was nigh complete.
Estel’s purpose was finished. With a salute to the remaining wolf, he took off towards his house where he had affixed a noose to the eaves of the house. He climbed a step ladder and fastened the noose about his neck. “Never shall it be said that this village was wholly unable to hang people, though the honor shall go to me alone. Vengeance is mine!” With that, he kicked aside his ladder. His neck snapped, and all that was left of the unloving Loveland was a victorious werewolf and Estel’s dead body, swaying in the dusty wind.
WEREWOLVES WIN!
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