Lucret ia

GUYS!

I've noticed alot... of people more then I was inspecting are reading this. I took the whole thing under editing. Mainly the last chapter. So this is an entire recap, as I'm doing most my work in private. You will see my edits in here and a new twist added to the story. Hope you guys dont mind. - StarSandwich. 

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They used to call me names, the villagers  that is. I guess they stopped after they got bored of my 'No-responce' method.

They never call me Lucretia even to this day, they just call me it Ia, its meant to stand for violet flower I think because my eyes are violet that my parents called me Lucretia. But the pet name Ia was stuck with not only my parents but the villager too. Ia, a violet flower.

But Ia is better then the old names. I was called. A Witch and a Mutt. I guess they kicked much more names at me when I was younger. The reason was because I survived a night on the street when the wolves attacked at the mar age of four. "Why did they leave her alive?" they would ask. "The Gruths must know the wolves" they would say "Must be why her mother died at her birth" they groaned.

They hated me, they hated my father. Until my father, one night and gained the trust of the villagers he got wounded from a battle agonised the alpha wolf. My father successfully and blinded one eye of the mighty alpha and cut off a paw. Which is now hung up in the good old bar, for all too see. Its still there rotting away after nine years. It was a dangerous mission. A mission that got my family's pride back, which led to the name of 'Witch' being lifted off my head. 

But I guess that's how I came to be Ia not Witch or Lucretia. 

I sighed before sipping some ice cold water, it soothed the back of my throat. It was getting late and tonight was another day another full moon. 

"Ia you should set off home soon its getting dark out and soon the bells will be ringing" Gregory my fathers best friend and owner of Crutters Bar. The home of the legendary 'Wolf Paw' i cringed. If it was true that werewolves turned into humans during the day wouldn't the human be missing a hand, wouldn't we notice?

Gregory stood behind the bar polishing his silver knife, it was like a rule 'Polish your silver' it was a battle and hunt for the wolves tradition. 

"Sure Greg" I stood from the stool and slid the glass too Gregory. He smiled weakly as I stood up to dust my dress skirt down from being crinkles. Light violet, to match my eyes I pulled my dark burgundy clock on and pulled up the hood as I left the Bar. I'm seventeen but I was aloud to sit in the bar a place where I only go to when its a full moon. Why? I don't know.

I was tortured by the village people for four years till I was eight and dad successfully defeated an alpha wolf. Nine years on. I can still recall my father anguish but delighted screams of pain, as he stood in front of me showing the bloody paw as blood ran down his face from the huge claw marks across it. I shivered. That was a disturbing sight. I had to clean him up while he told me all about it, flesh hanging off and dirt rubbed in. His whole "I don't want to get infected by the beast so I rubbed mud all over" 

It rained softly down onto my hood. I could smell the musky smell of rain the upturned dirt and the sagging forest. We lived just on the outside of the village, at the edge I would say. Me and my father. My mother. I've never had a mother she died in childbirth. My father blames the wolves. Though I could never understand why, she died on the night of the full moon during my birth, but she was no where near the wolves she was at Lady Bucks house. Lady Buck lives outside the village away from the wolves. But I know somewhere he despises me also. Lady Buck raised me till I was five, then father took me back. He hated how people treated me. He loved me, but I still know deep down he wonders If it really was my fault.