In the southwest, of what is now known as the United States, homed the Cherokee Native Americans. The legend is that one of their Goddesses, Mother Wolf, cursed the tribe for disrespecting her children. The Indians had been killing the wolves for game and not honoring it like they should. So Mother Wolf afflicted the worst possible thing she could. She turned them into the very creatures they hunted for sport. Wolves. The tribe was in despair, many were killed by other animals. Mother Wolf took mercy. She allowed them to retain their former human appearances. The catch was that the people would still be forced to Transform into the creatures whenever the urge struck. Who could have guessed that my mother, who died when I was a young girl, was a part of the Cherokee Tribe. She probably didn't know either to be honest. So my blood was cursed, and I didn't even know it until that fateful day I almost died in the middle of Ashford square. Until the wolf broke from her cage and we became one.