A Werewolf's Sacrifice

Episode 2

All weekend I wavered between anger and sadness, pain and excitement. I would miss him terribly, but I knew this would be a great adventure for him and I couldn’t begrudge him that. Most importantly, I couldn’t let my best friend go into potential danger without wishing him luck.

Though it was very late, I went to my mother and told her that I planned to go speak with Varick and that I would be right back. Since his house was within eyesight of our front door, she didn’t have any objections and watched me as I made my way there- her dark brown eyes following my every step.

Being out this late was against our town’s curfew, but my mother was never much one to follow the rules put in place by societal pressures. Much like allowing me to run around the marketplace giggling and exclaiming like a child should, this was another way my mother told others that we lived by our own standards.

The house his parents had left him was much like the one my mother and I shared. We lived in an area that was just adjacent to a dangerous side of town, but we never felt that ominous presence that surrounds such areas growing up here. I could name the residents of every house along the way. Though humble, each home was decorated with at least one or two potted plants, with my front porch looking like a jungle thanks to my mother’s green thumb.

When I reached his house, I immediately saw that all the lights were off. He was probably resting in preparation for his big day tomorrow. I chose not to ring the chimes that would alert him to someone at the door. Instead, I took off my favorite necklace- he would recognize it from the fashioning of the wolf under the raised sword- and kissed it, chuckling a little at the secret sentiment. I hung it off the doorknob, knowing the slight breeze that rustled through the trees wouldn’t be enough to knock it off.

I trusted that he would recognize it for what it was: a symbol of my friendship and hope that he would return safely. I couldn’t even begin to hope that he’d see it as a token of my love and affection.

As I trudged back home, the brightness of the full moon caught my attention. As I gazed up at the serene sphere like I usually did, an unusual foreboding feeling tugged at me just as the suddenly sharper wind yanked my blonde curls from my braid.

I was reminded of a rather ominous and dark bedtime story my mother had told me as a child…