Werewolf Classic XII Part 2

[Thufir]

The outlook is rather bleak. I have tried on several occasions this evening just gone to engage a villager on the subject of the seemingly impending tragedy, but none could be drawn into such a conversation, and in the end I simply retired to headquarters, to await the next death.

I hear the howls once more. I have not been observing them so closely for some time, yet my skill at so doing seems greater. I believe I can tell from where they are coming. I will go and investigate - someone of us must do something to halt this wanton slaughter.

...and so I return. The wolves have killed once again. I called them out to fight me, but doubtless they were glutted with the one death they already had that night, to say nothing of the disdain the group clearly showed to me some nights past. The pack seemed not even to observe me as they passed.
I tried to call out the other villagers to give the poor victim a proper burial, but they would not stir, so I did the deed all myself, hard graft though it was. Tired as I was, on completion of the task, I paused momentarily to catch my breath ere I thought to speak the last rites, and at this moment I saw standing over me a dark figure, my mysterious benefactor and encouraging correspondent, whose voice and handwriting seemed so familiar to me. He spoke the last rites, and then stood silent for a time before saying:

"She should have been here soon. A few more days at most."

"Oh my! Of course, 'tis- 'tis-"

Perhaps my brain had been dulled by some supernatural means on previous occasions, thus inhibiting my recognition, but this comment was at last enough for me to draw the obvious connection between this stranger's voice and my own experiences. I let out an exclamation of recognition, but he silenced me with a look - I could not see his face, but yet it was clear that he looked at me, or such was the distinct impression I had. Then he spoke again:

"The meeting will not take quite the form I anticipated when first I wrote her. Much has happened, though I shall still have quite a story to tell her." He turned to walk away, but said as a parting remark, "I am sorry to leave you thus alone, but loneliness is your part in this, my friend. You watch, alone and unknowing, and record the details for those to whom you may not speak. While I watch all-knowing, though equally incapable of acting or influencing, but bookend the tale with my words."
As he walked away he spoke, not to me so much as to the world at large, a short rhyme - some little doggerel which ran somewhat thus:

"Deaths have passed and time thus ran,
Some would mar and others mend,
I was here when this began
And shall remain beyond this end..."

"He's alive... he's alive... he's alive... he's alive... he's alive..."

Summary: Ghanz Nmi was killed. He was a Villager.
Day 22 begins now and ends in approximately 48 hours.