Andrew, an M.S.C. employee, looked up at the moon overhead. His earlier excitement had finally calmed somewhat, though his heart was still filled with countless emotions.
He had had enough of those days of fearing moonlight!
At last, he could begin a new life!
He knew perfectly well that the cure for his "Lycanthropy" was entirely thanks to Wizet.
With that thought, he kept turning around, searching the crowd for Wizet.
Wizet was still standing beside that wooden crate, talking with Liam Graves. Every so often, he tore off a strip of meat and fed it to the owl perched on his shoulder.
Although Wizet still stood tall and wore a smile, Andrew could not shake the feeling that Wizet must have given a great deal to accomplish this.
The reason Wizet kept up such an appearance was surely because he was thinking of them and did not want them to worry.
Andrew, the M.S.C. employee, even sensed an indescribable reassurance emanating from Wizet.
The thought stirred even more emotions within him. He understood that the person he needed to thank most was Wizet, standing not far away.
He looked at Wizet, yet countless fragmented scenes flashed through his mind: that bloody night in Yorkshire, the terrified and disappointed looks in his family's eyes, every full-moon night when he buried himself in a pit...
And the end of all that, all his hope, rested upon the young figure before him.
How was he supposed to thank Wizet?
His mind was blank—the kind of blankness that came after considering countless possibilities without finding the best answer.
Even after racking his brains, the few words of gratitude he could think of felt so pale and powerless that they almost seemed profane.
No words seemed weighty enough to match a whole life returned