Written by: Kenneth, Ella, Amanda, Evan, and Sarah
The werewolf loved the full moon, as there was no better time to hunt than when loud, angry parties of men with pitchforks and pikes were out looking for the beast. She stalked through the undergrowth, lamp-like yellow eyes on the lookout, scuffed sensitive ears searching for the sound of a party.
They marched drunk on anger and hate. The town of Brookenfeld hadn’t seen a werewolf in years, but everyone knew the stories. Stories of our werewolf mother, Matrix. At the rear of the party was a man drunk on mead. The werewolf, Leeara, watched him carefully.
Leeara watched the drunken man carefully as he stumbled around, oblivious of his surroundings. An easy target, she thought.
Her plan was to wait for the rest of the group to go ahead before she attacked. She wouldn’t have to wait long. The man was already fairly distant from the group, as his stumbling caused him to continually slip on the wet cobblestones. Suddenly an unknown feeling came over Leeara as she watched her prey.
She felt nostalgia, as if she had seen him before. Scurrying around the curve of the tree in front of her, she tried to get a clear glimpse of his face, but no luck. Why, she wondered. Why did she feel like she knew him?
It was as if she were seeing a ghost, and so intrigued was she that she abandoned her previous plan, padding noiselessly through the trees as she circled the drunkard. A low, resonating growl rose from deep in her throat, and the man lumbered around awkwardly to face the wolf.
She froze, her eyes locked on his face for a moment as she realized who he was. Blaise. A lover once…but now he hunted her. He’d turned his back on her when he’d discovered what she was, forcing her to remain in the forest like a mangy dog! He blinked at her, not fully comprehending in his drunken stupor. The growl turned into a snarl, white teeth were shown, and Leeara took her revenge.