Day of the Wolves #2

The Wisemen say, one does not escape wolves by becoming them. A Crow has no business howling any more than a Wolf has no business flying. How soon until our pelts are worn.
Fat men are complacent, feed them bread and butter and wine – they will die happy as you lead them into their death. Wine is not what dulls the senses most, it is thirst that drives a man to drink, but water is plentiful.
Give a man the promise of food, he will serve you. Give a man the promise of meat and he will fight for you. Give him fish and fowl, he will die for the taste. Keep him fed, let him fatten, and he will sail with you to the ends of the world to find you a kingdom.
But fed men become hard to persuade once that becomes the norm. They fight you when you starve them. They fight you when you take away their wine. Once they have a taste, they’ll assume they’ll always have the taste – even if they no longer desire it.
Give a man gold, he cannot eat it – but he can imagine using it to buy food, buy other comforts. Gold, women, land, titles – a man can be bought in a thousand ways. The more you offer the more they’ll do to ensure the promise is kept.
Across a sea, against an Empire with nothing but an axe and a boat. Crows are only fit to pick at bones, but Wolves are the ones that taste the blood. How soon until our pelts are worn?

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