"His living life had been tragic. I felt his sadness and anguish. I knew I always would feel his pain.
We were quiet and thoughtful that night, for there was so much to reflect on. Later, we walked upon the castle battlements. The view was stunning from up there. The sky looked silken and moody. Black clouds slid across the moon.
I remarked on it. Dracula said the night was sad for the clouds were like widow’s weeds. Wolves began to howl. “They cry for all undead,” he said. “They are dear to me for they sing their sad song to all who will listen.”
I agreed. “They sing perhaps of what they are, of what has gone before and will be.”
“Yes, many believe that the souls of the dead are reborn into wolves. The peasants are frightened of them for they say it is a sign of bad luck when they draw close. However, the Szgany know differently. They know the wolf is teacher to all. He leads the way. There are many things to be learned from him.”
I was quite moved by that.
“Come,” Dracula said. “The night is ending. Dawn will soon break. We must rest now, my love. We will talk tomorrow.”
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