♦Neruda's POV♦
I wonder how we managed to get into this situation, sitting on a picturesque porch with sunny yellow umbrellas and fruit juice, listening to a centuries-old werewolf who looked like a fifteen-year-old teenage girl tell us his life story.
It had to be the weirdest situation I'd ever found myself in and I managed to get into some pretty strange situations on a regular.
"It happened a long time ago before peace reigned and the Council was formed." He says in a nostalgic voice, taking a dainty sip of his drink.
'What?' I exclaim mentally, before the High Council? How old was this guy?
"Then the Vampires and Werewolves were at war on who would hold supreme power in the Old Country so technically the war was between the Laccrosses and the Slovenias."
I inch forward unconsciously at this, here was a part of history that was never recorded and would slowly die out with the eyewitnesses, no wonder Dix wanted to tell us his story.
