There are those who claim to have seen the wolf and those who actually saw it. It's Mr. Marion who says it. Don't be fooled by his maiden name, Mr. Marion is a hell of a big guy. The build of a fairground and the Vosges accent. Fifty-six years that he has shot on sight, forty that he is a game warden. Gamekeeper, at first glance, it throws. We imagine a novel by Genevoix or Vincenot. Lots of images come to us, smells too, of humus and undergrowth. "It is however not every day Sunday", corrects Mr. Marion. Every time a vehicle hits an animal in its area - around thirty times a year - it is the one that is disturbed. "When the phone rings at 2 a.m., I know I'm good at putting on my boots."The gendarmes are not empowered to finish off the poor animals - "To take out their firecracker, that's a whole story ..." So we call the gamekeeper. Other times, Mr. Marion tracks down the poacher. Whole nights on the lookout. "It's been time
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