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Registered: 05-2011
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Dreega Blackthorn's Tale


My name is Dreega Blackthorn and this is the story of my beginnings........

I was ten years old and the daughter of a merchant. I do not know where I lived, just that it was somewhere in Eryndor. My town was small, not many people lived there. My father sold armor, mainly metal plated, but he would sometimes do leather. My father is a strong man, not overly bulky but still intimidating to others. He had dark hair and dark eyes but he was loving and he provided for the family. My mother was a quiet woman. She was from a foreign land and she started off as a slave. My father had bought her from another man on the street. Or so she told me. She could not speak the language here and she looked so different from everyone in the village. She had tilted eyes and naturally dark skin with blackish blue hair. My father did not want her to learn this language, but I had started teaching her when I learned that she could not understand what I was saying when I talked like my father. Learning this language made her smile, and when she smiled, she lit up the room. But not many things made her smile. She was not allowed to go into the village without my father. He was very demanding and very controlling of her. I realize now that he was scared for her to find about him. See, the village around us was frightened of my father. Whenever he walked into town, the people parted around him. No woman would ever marry him, no father ever give their consent. The village knew his secret. His secret from my mother that would have caused her to run earlier. You see, my father was a werewolf, or a moon-shifter as the village called him. My mother and I did not know this until my tenth summer, during the full moon.

My father had left earlier that day, saying he had to go to another village for work. But he had not left. He has a cave near our home that he went to when the time came for the change. This way he could be near my mother and I and keep an eye on us when he was gone and different. This time however, my mother had gone outside, to the woods to take a walk. My father warned my mother to stay inside after dark. It was dangerous, there were things in the woods that would gladly kill anything that moved. I had not yet fallen asleep so I decided to follow her and later try to scare her. It was a childish thing to do, but I was only ten summers old. So I followed her out but as she got to the edge of the woods, a wolf leaps out. He was black with black eyes and he growled at my mother. She got scared and started running into the woods, away from the house, away from the wolf, and away from me. The wolf bounded after her and I followed them both, picking up a stick on the way, thinking only of protecting my mother.

I kept hearing her screams of fright through the woods and I used those to follow her. I knew the wolf was fast and that he would catch up to her. I also knew that there was a steep ledge up ahead and I hoped my mother remembered as well. For if she forgot and went over, it was not a fall that she would survive.

Again I heard another scream but it stopped abruptly. I heard rocks falling and then I heard a howl. That howl will haunt me for the rest of my life. It was filled with such grief, reverberating through my body and bringing tears to my eyes. It pushed me to go faster and as I broke through the trees to the ledge I saw the wolf looking down, still howling and whimpering. I moved forward, next to the wolf, the stick forgotten in my hand as I looked down the edge. What I saw there ruined my life. There she was, at the bottom of the ledge, laying on a pile of rocks, broken. Her body contorted, her face bruised and her hair fanned out around her. She was gone, her eyes staring above her, wide open in horror and death. I collapsed, going to my knees, screaming and crying. The wolf howled again and I looked over, remembering the stick that I clutched to. I swung out, hitting him in the side and cursed him. He was the reason for my mothers death. He took her from me and I wanted that damn wolf dead. He ran off into the woods again, but I would not leave her. I know my father would be worried when he returned home and he would come searching for us. When he would come, I would tell him of what happened and he would avenge her. So I stayed there, kneeling next to the ledge, staring down and waiting for my father to come.

I must have fallen asleep because I remember waking up to the sound of something scrapping on the rocks next to me. It was the wolf and he looked to be in pain. It was morning out and the sun was rising. I got up, looking for the stick that I set down next to me earlier. As I was looking, I heard a weird popping noise. I looked at the wolf again to only realize that the wolf was standing on its back legs, the fur receding, the muzzle retreating back into the face. A body of a man was taking the place of the wolf. I looked on horror as the man started looking more and more like the man I called father. As the transformation completed I stared and whispered “Father”. He looked up, his face full of grief.

“You did this”, I said as I gestured to my mother, his wife, laying broken and gone at the bottom of the ledge. He made to move forward, as though to hold me, but I scampered back, afraid of him. He stopped, stared at me, with tears coming to his eyes. “I love you” he said, “come here, let us go home.” I shook my head no and stood up, finally gaining my feet and feeling the fear fall away at his dismissal of my dead mother. “I hate you!”, I screamed at the man who helped make me, “I hate you for what you did”. He stepped back at those words, shocked I would say such a thing. I stepped forward, again another step, until I was but ten steps away from him. I said to this man, “I want nothing to do with you. You are not my father, I have no father. You should have told us instead of keeping it a secret. Do not follow me. I am not your child anymore and I never will be. I will come back one day and I will kill you for this.” The man just stood there, in shock as I finished my words. I turned and ran into the woods as fast as I could, pushing myself to go faster and farther than I ever had before.

As I ran, I felt refreshed. I was free from that house, from the secrets and the control. I was free from that man who ran things with an iron will. I could be myself and learn from these woods and those that inhabit it. I would learn how to survive here. My father was already teaching me how to hunt and clean an animal. My mother was already teaching me the role of being a woman in a male dominated village, so I was already on my way to surviving. I could do this and I would. I would survive, get stronger, and return. And as I realized this, it felt like something in me was unlocked, let loose. I raised my head to the air, took in the scents surrounding me. I could tell there was a river running parallel to me. That there were wolves about five miles north of me, natural wolves. I could sense and smell all of these things so much sharper than a day ago. I knew something had changed inside of me. Something had awakened, been set free, and it was raising it head up inside of my mind and rejoicing in its new found freedom. It was that day that I knew I was a werewolf like my father.

---
::::Moon-Shifter::::
5/12/2011, 12:04 am Link to this post Send Email to Dreega Blackthorn   Send PM to Dreega Blackthorn Blog
 
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Re: Dreega Blackthorn's Tale


From that day on, I stayed in the woods, away from the people and their wants. I would occasionally see them or smell them in the woods, hunting or traveling, but I would move away from them and hide until I could smell them no more. Six summers had passed since that fateful day. Six summers since realizing what I was. I had yet to change, but every full moon, I could feel the beast more and more, coming closer and closer to the surface. I knew it would happen soon and I only hoped that I did not hurt anyone when I did. I would stay in the woods, in my home that I made, and hopefully nothing bad would happen.


I lived in a cave in the woods, surrounded by the spoils of my kills. In my six summers being on my own, I had become a master at hunting. I could sneak up on a bear and kill it before it realized what had happened with my knife. I could shoot a dear from a mile away with my bow and arrows. My traps were masterfully hidden, ready to unleash on any and all intruders. I had bear blankets, rabbit cloaks and deer skin clothing. I made leather from deer hides and my food was mainly jerky and any berries or mushrooms I could find. I would occasionally have fish, but I was not too good at that.


My mother had taught me well how to preserve my food and forage for the freshest fruits and wild vegetables. I missed her greatly, her gentleness and lessons. I sometimes missed my father, but then I would remember what he did and that acid rage would come back, welling inside and I would immediately have to leave and go run. My body was strong now, my weapons sharp and my skills honed. I was ready to go back and fulfill my promise. My first change, I would go back and I would kill my father.


My first change came only a few months after my seventeenth summer. I do not know what caused it to come then, but I welcomed it. It was the first night of the full moon and I felt my beast rise to the surface. She was ready and aching to come out. I knew what she wanted and I was ready to give her free reign of my body. The moon peeped out behind the clouds for the first shining and I could feel the change starting.


I thought the change would bring a sense of wonder, a tingly feeling. How wrong I was. The pain was excruciating. It was unbearable torture, unrelenting. I could not stand it, but I had to. Once the change starts, nothing stops it. I could feel my body fall in the forest. I heard the thunk as I collapsed and I started to writhe in pain. My body started to contort, to be smaller. I could feel my hands change first. My fingers shrunk, became smaller and smaller as my nails grew thicker and sharper. My hands and feet started taking the form of paws. My palms became tougher, more round. I had pads on them now and my “paws” were starting to become covered in fur. Next was the feeling of my spine and bones becoming smaller and different. My spine became smaller and more flexible, my insides smashing together and re-arranging. It burned and ached inside of me, my muscles protesting such strain.


While all these changes were happening, my face was also changing. My nose grew smaller, my chin going further, changing shapes. My teeth grew, became harder and sharper. I could feel the power of my jaw muscles and the damage they could do. My face started feeling less like my face and more like a wolfs. I could see a muzzle now, covered in brown fur. I could feel my ears twitching on top of my head, hearing everything. My sight seemed better, I could see farther and clearer. By now only a minute or so had passed by but it seemed like so much longer. My body was almost done contorting. The last thing to change about the shape of my body was the growth of my tail. It felt as though my spine was growing longer and longer. It was the most painful thing to happen to my body. It was not something that naturally belonged with my body and to grow a tail in a matter of seconds was just unnatural. About half way through the growth of my tail the fur had started to come out. As the fur came out, the pain had lessened until it was just a pulsing ache throughout my entire body. The fur popping out of every pore did not hurt. In fact, it felt tingly. If anything, it made me want to laugh. It was tickling my skin. Here were the feelings I was expecting. My fur was beautiful. It was a dark, rich brown with black and red threading through. The change itself only took a couple of minutes, not long at all. I was finally in my wolf form. After seven summers of realizing what I was and what I could be, I was finally there, feeling the freedom of a wolfs body and instincts.


What surprised me the most about becoming a moon-shifter was the fact that it was not like every story I had heard described. I heard stories of people who were werewolf being overcome with blood lust. They were controlled by the wolf and a need to kill and hurt. However, my wolf inside let me have control. She was calm and offered any knowledge that she had. We were one, we were friends. She did not want to hurt anyone--well, my father not included. Him she wanted to maul and tear apart and leave bleeding to death. She was not fond of that man at all. I was okay with that. After all, after tonight, I would finally begin the trip back to my home and follow through with my promise. I would keep this first night to myself, to test and find my wolfs strengths and to enjoy what I had now, for I know that I would not enjoy the bloody battle that I know was to ensue in the fight against my father.


So that night was purely a wonder for me. I ran through the forest I called home for seven summers. I swam in the river, paddling from shore to shore, continuing to run once I got to the other side. I hunted for the first time in my wolf form. I was not hungry, but the wolf in me was spurred into hunting. I could smell a rabbit and the prey provoked the instinct out of me. The rabbit was weak and easy to catch. Killing it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The feel of the soft meaty body between my teeth as I rendered the rabbit limb to limb was a thrilling experience. The blood speckled on my muzzle and all around the woods where I was standing. I dropped the rabbit from my muzzle, licking the blood from my fur as I started on back home to the cave. The night was almost over and I had walking to do in the morning. I was, after all, returning home to kill a man.

---
::::Moon-Shifter::::
6/9/2011, 8:33 pm Link to this post Send Email to Dreega Blackthorn   Send PM to Dreega Blackthorn Blog
 


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