The Innkeep's Perspective

So, here's a bit of fiction.  It's from a writing prompt where you're supposed to talk about a historical event from the perspective of someone in the time - I went with a random innkeeper in the town of Gevaudan, between the royal hunters' supposed killing of the beast and Jean Chastel's supposed killing of the beast.  It was mostly a practice in dialogue (or monologue, I guess).  But here it be, hope you enjoy it.

"I don’t think much of it, either. It’s been a year since those fancy sods left, taking their prize with them. 'Msgr. Jean Charles Marc Antoine Vaumesle d'Enneval' gets to take his fancy new titles and his great big sack of money and settle down. It wasn’t even 3 months later there was another attack, but nope!  The beast’s dead!  Musta been something else hurt those little girls.
"I’ll grant you, that was the biggest wolf I’ve ever seen. I can understand them thinking it was the beast. They even stuffed it and sent it to Versailles, it was that impressive. But if that was the beast, why are the attacks still happening? And why’s everybody ignoring the new attacks?

"I’ll tell you why. Well. Back when Portefaix and them scared off the beast, that was not so long after Madame de Pompadour died, was it? Now, I don’t mind Louis trying to distract himself, and it was a help anyway. Portefaix’s not going to complain, is he? The king gave him all kinds of money just for surviving the attack. Then he sends in his professional hunters, and having those men in town didn’t hurt my wallet either. They stayed here and ate here mostly, too, so I’m not sad they came. It seemed like they might help. But where are they now? No damned where. They killed their beast and now the palace and the world are back to not giving two shits about some backwater little town. We were doing pretty well until the government decided we’re not interesting anymore. So what if there’s a beast? Probably a wolf! Happens everywhere! Can’t send out the army every time.

"Wolf my ass. I thought maybe when they killed that big one, it was over. But I never did think it was a wolf until then, and now?  Now I think I was right at the first. Just hopeful thinking. Wolves don’t attack people, not like this. A wolf’s out to eat, isn’t he? Well, we’ve got plenty of sheep and cows and chickens all fenced in like a damned wolfie buffet. But he don’t like sheep, I guess. This beast, he likes people. He likes women and little kids. That’s no wolf. That’s the devil. Or something.

"Bad for business, too. Nobody wants to go staggering home late, drunk, when they might get torn to bits by some devil-beast.

"I don’t know, Jean. Somebody ought to do something about it. We just hide away and hope he don’t get us, and nobody does nothing. Weren’t for my bum leg and my worse shooting, I’d go hunting the thing myself. I’m more likely to fall over and shoot myself though, I guess.

"-Yeah, you laugh but it’s true.

"Alright Jean, I’ll quit going on, now. I’m not trying to guilt you into anything, just you’re a hunter, and it reminded me. I suppose that’s why you don’t mind being here so late, eh? No big bad’s gonna get you, eh?"