As I observed Cherokee, the rain-soaked air was filled with an impenetrable silence.
Cherokee would burn, and it's demise was coming soon.
Death would fall upon the wolf clan of Cherokee, and be purged.
" Why do you look on with such pity?" I turn and observe him keenly. He wore white, almost as a representation of martyrdom and a symbol of rebirth.
" This is my home, my people."
I growled in annoyance, cutting my attention back to the town.
" This was your home," I corrected. "Are you having second thoughts?"
He opened his mouth to respond, only to quickly close it shut. His head bowed in shame, the gravity of his decision weighing upon his shoulders. Making a deal with a demon always had consequences.
YOU ARE READING
Hour of the Moon
Loup-garouKeiran Smith, 25, whose journalism career is in freefall, is given a three-month story to cover on the enigmatic "wolf" deaths and disappearances that have been happening in Cherokee, North Carolina. Keiran is unaware that the tale will immerse her...
