My, What Big Teeth You Have

Point Hope Wolf Farm

12th Day of Month 8
16th Year of Carther's Reign

I am starting this new diary with some measure of interest, and a large portion of disdain. You see, I am being sent off to Point Hope Wolf Farm for a few months to recuperate my lungs. Why my lungs matter so much to everyone, I know not. They have always been my most sickly organs, to the point where standing up too quickly sometimes arrests my breath.

I was disappointed by this plan largely thanks to receiving an invitation to Amelia Beaufort's legendary Autumn Ball the week before, which is bound to be stupidly grand, with lots of handsome people to mingle with. As it is, I shall be within pastures of smelly wolves all fall season!

Can you imagine? It is what it is, I suppose.

I will be grateful to draw in a full breath of crisp countryside air, at the very least. And who is to say it will not be fun? Mr. and Mrs. Whiteside are good friends of my parents, so it should be alright.

Picture me now, in a nice traveling dress with pink laces, hunched over my diary in the most unladylike way; I have already discovered the joy of being away from one's guardians. There is no sharp tongue telling me to sit straight or smooth my dress, I can be however I like. The tea cart came through and I have chosen a decadent little tart with a cup of tea. This train lurches so smoothly that naught a single drop can spill, even if it wanted to.

My poor health indeed prevents me from taking many holidays, so even this simple landscape is thrilling to me. I can't recall a time when I have ever been so deep in nature. The grass and trees simply roll on, almost enough to worry that Point Hope will be nothing more than endless pastures with only a small cluster of buildings, hardly enough to call a town and derive some pleasure from walking its streets.

But no need to be concerned just yet, there is the journey of a switch train and another two hours ahead. For now, I will eat my tart and do my best not to get jam on my pages.

The switch train has happened. This one is drastically cheap-looking with 'luxury' seats that would be considered third-class quality in the city. No matter, there is only an hour left to go and I am not a girl of unnecessary complaint. Good thing I have already had my tea on the first train because this one jerks and shakes so much that it makes drinking impossible. One gentleman across from me attempted and only ended up soaking his newspaper with tea.

Something interesting happened just now that made me straighten in my seat. Apparently there was a mixup in the cars, and one beast car had been put between two traveling cars, one of which happened to be my compartment. As it was, they had to walk a pack of wolves through the luxury car to get to their own. There was such an uproar of discontent, and one lady even fainted!

I just stared in amazement because I had not been prepared for what wolfmen would look like. These ones were docile in their collars of silver and disturbed no one as they were pushed through, but they were quite the sight! If I could draw, I would be tempted to try a sketch. Huge creatures with coarse-looking fur of shades from brown and cinnamon to black. Rough hands that end in claws that can rip a man's throat out in one violent motion.

Their eyes were that of beasts with human intelligence behind them, which was terrible now that I think back to it. Their bodies were vulgar to look at; they wore no clothes at all.

My curiosity tempted me to look between the legs, but I shamed myself out of it. One of them stumbled, jostled by the others. He fell to the ground nearly on my lap. I am surprised I did not jump up in sheer surprise, but I suppose the fear froze me. I was thinking,

Look at that huge head, with teeth as long as my hand. He could bite my leg off at once and think nothing of it.

I did note that his eyes were gentle and soft, like those of a good family dog. Suddenly he was being yanked up in a chokehold by one of the handlers. Let me tell you, the handlers themselves are no joke. They have to be strong to even begin to dream of handling such dangerous creatures.

Then they were gone from the car and people were grumbling with the vestiges of shock and some concern for me. I had just picked up my diary to begin my earnest recording of this remarkable encounter when the woman across from me in a giant feather hat said,

"Well, that was frightful. Traveling alone, young lady? Are you quite old enough?"

"I am in my twentieth year, ma'am," I smiled.

"Oh, indeed? Are you going to see your beau or family perhaps?"

So, she was the nosy sort. She reminded me of my Aunt Clarise, only this woman was larger and softer, with a bosom that would be quite pillowy for a weary head.

"I am taking a holiday for my health. The doctor said the clean air would do my lungs some good," I replied, and she set about with an earnest conversation about general health, the air, and what remedies worked best for congested lungs.

She knew it all and had a child like me. I just smiled and nodded along because I could not tell her that I cared little about my general well-being and only wanted enough performance out of my body to keep from fainting every two hours. Eventually, the train stopped in Point Hope, and I said goodbye.

"Have a good one, dear," she said. "I live in town myself, so perhaps we will cross paths again."

I told her I sure hoped so. The beast cars were unloaded too and the wolfmen were herded to the side to be loaded into large cages for transfer. I was quite certain they would be taken to Point Hope Farm because if there was another wolf farm, I had not heard of it. I had a carriage and driver waiting, a relatively handsome young man with a nice smile. He took my bags and opened the door for me and I settled down for the last few minutes of the journey.

This will be the last I write in my diary until the evening, for I will surely have too much to see to spare time for writing.