Read: The Werewolf Epic

The Addition:

So now this word returns, and ‘twere conscience
as like a man possessed of more than voice
—what voice he has! for lo, no one escapes,
or so I’m told, no one is deaf though he
whispers—he clasps the hunter’s shoulder tight
within a lawman’s grasp. Swift dictate comes:
Now your promise make good unto the dame.
Contending with conscience, he wins a small
reprieve. Forestalling duty, but awhile,
to the spent deer returns he with his knife,
his bloody knife, brandished. Carving, he cuts,
hollowing out the corpse. Thus vomiting,
in issue comes the internal workings
of a thin doe: stomach and heart and lungs.