Now they were a Pack, the One and his brothers, that streaked as silent shadows in the darkness and tore their prey with their deadly fangs.
But he was distant from his brothers, for he was Mist alone; and at night he tilted his head and howled his woes to the stars.
She could feel his loneliness, the hidden pain; and She crafted moonlight in Her image, and cast her down to him, and said:
Unto the earth, for Mist and Moonlight shall be one. Through life and death shall you be bonded, for all eternity.
That night as he went through the forest alone he found her, the silver-eyes, and brought her back to his brothers, saying:
She will be Luna, for she is moonlight;
Her name will be Xylia, for she is from the woods.
And it was so; that they were One, that came to life with her Breath.
YOU ARE READING
Legend
WerewolfTime itself is the spinster of the long-forgotten; for her Eyes do not overlook the most insignificant of truths, nor do they miss the darkest of lies. The intricate latticework woven by the threads of fate, the haggard tales are told, whispering th...
