The half-amarok was now sixteen years old. Since all the humans he had met thought he was a monster, he had been stuck in his amarok form since his father left. He was now about fourty feet tall on all fours. He was in his cave at the moment thinking about that night his father left him. He had abandoned him, because he was half-monster.
He remembered how he had cried all through the night, hoping that his father would return. However, his father never returned. Sometimes, he hoped that his father just got lost or maybe he was injured or killed. He knew the truth. His father had abandoned him.
"Well," he said to himself, "If humans think of me as a monster, then maybe I should become a monster. These humans are going to pay with their lives." Suddenly, the amarok's stomach growled. "Should I attack the town, now? Or should I get something to eat and attack the town on a full stomach?" he asked himself.
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