Chapter 79 [Fairy Tale] He Had a Little Gray Wolf (5)

Astrid stood up, all four paws firmly on the ground, adopting a stance of attack. Her tail hung low behind her, brushing the earth. She watched the boy who had suddenly appeared behind her.

He wore a set of somewhat shabby gray clothes. His hair was flaxen, slightly curled, and his eyes shone a deep blue. His skin was pale, almost translucent.

“Please, please don’t—don’t be afraid of me…” Ryder looked awkwardly at the little wolf before him.

She was still a young wolf, not yet fully grown, with a coat of gray fur and round, black eyes that stared at him warily. She was injured; an arrow was lodged in her hind leg.

Ryder recognized it at once—it belonged to the knights of their town. There was magic imbued in it.

He stepped forward, and immediately the little wolf bared her teeth at him.

“I—I mean no harm… Your leg is injured, if—if it isn’t treated, it’ll leave you crippled.” Ryder, speaking so many words for the first time, blushed deeply. His blue eyes shone brightly, though a hint of timidity lingered within them.

Astrid stood for a moment, but her hind leg hurt too much. She crouched down, tilting her head as she examined the boy before her.

Greed watched for a while from behind a tree, noticing that Astrid seemed not to recognize Shangyuan at all. He was instantly amused.

“Astrid! That boy is wicked, don’t believe him! He wants to kill you! Ignore him!” Greed shouted from above.

Astrid kept her head tilted, her tail trailing behind her.

She let out a mournful howl.

She ignored Greed.

Moving her injured leg slowly to the front, Astrid examined it. The arrow was still lodged deep, the pain intense. She lowered her head and gently licked it with her tongue.

Ryder stood still, watching the little gray wolf. He took a few tentative steps closer, and the pup only glanced at him, showing no hostility.

Ryder relaxed, approaching Astrid cautiously and placing his basket on the ground.

“There’s—there’s magic,” Ryder said, squatting to look at the reddened wound on the wolf’s paw.

The little wolf’s eyes were so dark, shining brilliantly. As soon as Ryder spoke, she lifted her neck and let out a few sorrowful whimpers.

“Don’t be afraid.” Ryder rummaged in his basket for some herbs and smiled gently. “I—I can help.”

He pointed to himself, then to Astrid’s injured paw, meaning: I can help you, don’t be afraid.

Astrid gazed intently at the boy squatting before her.

He was truly beautiful.

His skin was soft and pale. His eyes gleamed—brighter than the stars above, blue as the river of the heavens.

“Astrid! Don’t believe him, humans have no kindness. Have you forgotten the men who wounded you with arrows?” Greed shouted frantically from overhead.

But Astrid paid him no mind. As a wolf, Astrid possessed a keen sense of smell; she knew the boy meant no harm.

She moved closer, her tender red tongue licking Ryder’s pale cheek. Her saliva remained behind.

Ryder’s face flushed suddenly crimson.

“Don’t—don’t…” he mumbled, immediately lowering his head and fumbling with the herbs in his hands.

Wolves were known to transform into human form. Yet this one seemed unusually friendly.

Was she not a member of the wolf tribe?

Astrid whimpered in frustration.

She was hurt—now even the pale, soft boy disliked her.

She was not dirty.

Hmph.