My Lover is A Werewolf

Cooking the Familiar?

The Moon goddess grants her followers the power of covenant with animals, allowing them to hunt abominable wolfmen to maintain the tranquility of the forest for the goddess.

To the Moon Witches, the Familiar is like the silver bow on the back of the moon goddess.

Snake venom can be used to make poison to paralyze the werewolf; rare white deer can purify the curse of the werewolf; the most common wild cats around witches can also sense the movement of monsters.

As for the big white goose , she could probably buy her master five minutes, roughly the time for an appetizer.

Since that day, Cilantro has successfully gained the sympathy of the whole village, with various condolences piled up in front of her cottage door.

The young witches who usually play well come to visit one after another. Some of them, in a sentimental tone, even burst into tears, as if every moment could be Cilantro's last or her last as a human.

"Pelenn, what do you think I should use to save this child?"

The red-haired witch pulled out a large flower cat from the empty wine barrel, disdainfully throwing it back to her drunken hostess, who was talking to an empty oak barrel cup at the moment.

One after another, they all seem to be greedy for drinks. She said impatiently, "You're asking a bar owner this question, and there's only one answer."

Amber squinted, trying to see the witch in front of her clearly. This woman had the best wine cellar in the village. She warned herself not to get drunk here and offend the other party.

Each young witch had a barrel of her own fruit wine, brewed for a full sixteen years, containing powerful blessings and magic, waiting to be opened when she came of age.

During the sixteen-year-old prayer ceremony, young witches practiced with wine, drinking their own birthday wine, while also making a sacred oath to the goddess.

Only then could they advance from being low-ranking god servants to practicing god messengers, officially embarking on the journey of hunting werewolves.

The old witches specially invited the witch Pelenn from the distant and sacred Miler Valley. There, the followers of the natural goddess congregated, and Pelenn, with her unique background, believed in several goddesses, besides the Moon Goddess, there were three other natural goddesses.

"How can you really despise little Cilantro so much? Why not just give her to me? My goddesses are much gentler."

As the goddess of harvest and pleasure, the divine Pelenn brewed excellent wine, and she also had a fondness for Cilantro, who was adept at turning "food" into gold. Over the years, she had been trying to proselytize Cilantro, doing some underhanded things to steal her away from Amber.

To this, Amber warned her countless times. Her highness was not as generous as the three goddesses, and if she didn't believe it, she could take a day trip to the "Garden of the Goddess."

But now, Amber was drowning her sorrows in alcohol, so she continued with her nonsense, "Well, if you can bring me her wolf's head, then she's yours."

"Well, Let's go to see Cilantro, the poor girl."

Pelenn rarely left the tavern, and Amber could guess that she was probably planning to poach again.

But if Cilantro was willing, this incompetent teacher of hers was also willing to bear the wrath of the Moon Goddess for her.

That was the only thing she could do for her now.

The large flower cat played happily along the wind, sticking out its tongue mischievously as if it could taste the salty and moist smell from across the mountains. Its master, Amber, couldn't help but look up into the distance, where her thoughts, still forming, gathered and dissipated like clouds and mist.

"In fact, living here for a lifetime isn't bad at all."

Pelenn suddenly felt emotional, and before Amber could respond, she continued.

"The outside world is too scary."

Following her gaze, a row of grass houses looked cute and simple, with red camellias and purple morning glories covering the rooftops, and beautiful flower curtains hanging down, greeting them with smiles as they passed.

The two passed by flower houses like they were in a maze of the goddess, and if they weren't careful, they would bump into sturdy green walls, but finding Cilantro's house wasn't difficult at all.

Just like finding a hotpot of lamb stew simmering in a pot among a mess of pots and pans, the exotic black-haired girl always found a way to stand out.

A lion-headed creature emerged from the sea of camellias, its fierce appearance seemed to still be breaking through the waves, but the feathers on its neck had already turned into spots on the old wood; the vines of the morning glory climbed up along the mottled fish tails, curling up into a tender green arc against the deep blue sky.

The crowded roof had no space for any birds to rest, and even the only bare branch was used by Cilantro to hang a few wooden masks; moss covered half of the face, but you could still vaguely see the slender features, more importantly, the painted eyes and ink-colored hair, resembling Cilantro's shadow, and also the face of the eastern coast.

"How many times have I told you to clear away the garbage? You must have gone down to the riverbank again and brought back some."

Amber scolded as she stepped over a broken blue porcelain basin, which was filled with some dirty water and a few yellowed round leaves; on the side, Pelenn marveled at the sight of what people called a garbage house.

"Where's that goose?" In contrast to nearby homes where deer and rabbits frolicked, Cilantro's cottage was eerily quiet.

Suddenly, Pelenn pointed to the chimney rising from the roof. "Cooking something up there," she remarked and frowned. "This child, cooking without opening a window, acting all secretive."

Through the narrow window, the sharp-nosed tavern owner couldn't resist sniffing. "Smells like she's cooking meat soup."

The air thickened, and the two exchanged a glance, each seeing an ominous premonition in the other's eyes.

They looked towards the tightly closed doors and windows.

The cottage door was blasted open.

A wave of sweetness flooded out as a black-haired girl stood before the iron pot, wielding a ladle as a makeshift weapon. She stared in shock at the intruders.

Before Pelenn could inspect the pot, she received a fierce slap to the face.

Amber saw a large white goose flapping its wings, fiercely attacking Pelenn's face as if intent on making a nest out of his head.

"No, Parsnip, stop."

The girl banged the ladle against the edge of the pot, causing the goose to retract its wings and waddle back to its owner's side, but the vain witch had already dashed out the door with wild hair, fleeing into the distance.

After the false alarm, Amber sobered up considerably, patting her chest with lingering fear.

Looking at the woman's pale and green face, the precociously perceptive Cilantro squinted.

"You didn't happen to think I cooked my Familiar and ate it, did you?"