Celine starts muttering the words to the song she knew, but couldn’t remember, under her breath. Still unsure of how she knows them, but just accepting that she does;
‘In days of yore, when France was young, there lived beings, strange and unsung, when human kings did rule and sway, ancient French werewolves, fierce and gray.’
‘Their claws were sharp, their eyes were bright, their howls did echo through the night, they roamed the forests, wild and free, their power feared, their magic deadly.’
‘With full moon rising, they would change, their bodies twisting, altered strange, their fur would grow, their teeth would gleam, their beasts within, would roam and dream.’
‘They hunted deer, bear, and wild boar, their prey would tremble, and implore, but the werewolves, they were kind and true,
