The town woke with a start, as the sound of a loud gunshot reverberated around the countryside around Whitley-on-le-Floss. The vigilante had fired, and the villagers prayed he had fired well. But before they could stagger from their beds, there was an almighty noise, almost guttural, which left the villagers frozen to their respective beds. The vigilante himself was taken aback for a few seconds; his sniper bullet had never failed him before! He whipped out his pistol, and ran towards his target, but before he could meet him, his target was upon him, bounding down the street! The vigilante fired several shots into his target, but it was to no avail - the adrenaline was pumping in his target and he ran straight down the road into the vigilante, snarling at him as he tore chunks out of the vigilante.
But as the vig lay on the floor, mortally wounded, he summoned his remaining energy, and shot the JuggaWolf straight between the eyes, and the two mortal enemies died simultaneously.
C-17 is DEAD. He was a vigilante.
Apollo is DEAD. He was the JuggaWolf.
As the villagers began to come out of their stupor and witness the bloody scene before them, the remaining wolves took the opportunity to pick off another villager, and silently flawed him whilst no-one was looking. In fact, the man himself hadn't been seen for a while, so he probably wasn't looking either!
master of desaster is DEAD. He was a villager.
Meanwhile, one man missed all the fun, having had far too much of the finest West Country Cider WOLF could offer!
Genghis is DRUNK!