Prologue

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Prologue:

--Running-

"Lubesc cel mai fatal şi cel mai puternic este cel care este interzis ..."

( "Love the most fatal and most powerful is what is forbidden..." )

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Dashing through the woods, his paws thundering over the snow.

Where he hides off to, no one but the hunter seems to know.

His silver fur shining in the moonlight.

His eyes, narrowed from the chase, are darker than any night.

A shot rings out throughout the frigid air.

A yelp-a voiced distress of pain, from the hunter's lack of care.

He falls down to the freezing cobblestone.

Unfortunately, no one hears his call- he is alone.

A man steps from the dark.

He is not at all satisfied with his mark.

His face is grave as he moves near.

Closer to werewulf, he whispers in his ear.

"I never wanted to do this," he said.

The anchor in his being, his heart, is dread.

To the hunter, the werewolf says none.

For all of his hopes are on the rising sun.

But before the sun could save him, cold metal is to his neck.

"You never should have run from the deck,"

Says the hunter to the werewolf, tears in his eyes.

Begins the werewulf to the hunter, "I will not speak any lies,"

Continues the werewulf, "You never understood my woes,"

"My pain, my anger, and my hunger, my foes."

He grunts but does not rise, "I could speak all day, and you would not hear."

"For though you say you love me, to me, you would never come near,"

The werewulf closes his eyes," I don't know you, anymore."

His dark eyes are tired, "To remain by your side is too much of a chore."

The hunter, he nods," I see."

Replies the werewulf, "Do you really?"

The hunter freezes, violet eyes wide and teary, and then backs down.

But his falter is not permanent as his face hardens, "I do now."

The werewulf nods and says, "I have one last thing to say,"

The hunters, "What is it?" Cries in the distance make him uneasy to stay.

"Happy birthday," the werewulf says, with a smile in his eyes.

The hunter begins to sob as he shoots, all of his lover's flaws and his lies-

They were untrue as his beloved had done no harm.

Ringing through the air is the town's alarm.

But the hunter continues to sob, aloud.

Though his lover had become what was not allowed.

He had done no evil deed.

He had never sunk under to greed.

He was pure in his beautiful silver fur.

He was pure, not in any way a cur.

He had been pure and his soul the same.

Now his life is as dead as his name.

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